Music tells the Story
by SoDamnSherlocked
Summary: After the incident at the pool, John is distant and Sherlock is eager to find out why. But as Sherlock is kidnapped, John realizes how deeply he feels for the detective while he tries to get him back. And there will be another problem. Will John get him back & will Sherlock reciprocate his feelings? M for a reason. Enjoy :) Epilogue up! Complete!
1. Chapter 1 - We'll be coming back

**AN: **So, I was working in the garden and I was listening to some music. After watching the first season of Sherlock, I'd become addicted or somewhat „sherlocked" (reference intended) and then I had read lots of fanfics about Johnlock and they made me start shipping them, so while I was listening to the music, a somehow crazy but kinda cool idea came to my mind and I wanted to write it down, so here it is.  
This is my first fanfiction and I wanted to do it in English though I'm not a native speaker, so whoever finds any mistakes may keep them ;) Anyway, I wanted to try at least. This is neither beta'ed nor brit-picked. Favs, follows, "hi"-sayings and everything else are greatly appreciated.

This story sets after The Great Game.

Just so you know, there's always a song involved. This time it's "We'll be coming back" by Calvin Harris & Example (Catchy song!)

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own anything except for the plot. Sherlock belongs to BBC, Steven Moffat & Mark Gatiss who borrowed it from Sir ACD. The song lyrics I used belong to Example & Calvin Harris. Nothing is mine, if it were, I'd be the happiest person on earth, I guess.

* * *

_**Chapter 1 – We'll be coming back:**_

„_Catch you later." - „No, you won't."_

His words kept being repeated in his head. He was kinda worried but Sherlock made him get his mind off this, at least every now and then.

A beeping phone tore him out of his thoughts.

„John! We've got a case!" Sherlock's excitement was almost cuttable with a knife.

He went downstairs to find Sherlock grabbing his scarf and walking quickly towards the door. John grabbed his coat and followed him. They hailed for a cab and drove the way to the crime scene in complete silence.

As soon as they stepped out of the car, Lestrade waved them over. Sherlock paid the cab driver and they walked over to Donovan who just greeted them with an annoyed look, rolling her eyes. Nonetheless, she held the barrier tape up so the two could walk over to Lestrade with Donovan following them.

Lestrade was standing there, looking down, scratching the back of his head. Anderson was running around, looking at the ground as he heard talking and he immediately recognized the voices. Looking up, he did as Donovan a couple of minutes ago, letting out an annoyed sigh.

„Ah, the freak is here again. Wanted a piece of this cake as well, huh?"Just after he had finished, John stood right under his nose, giving him a piercing look.

„I'm sorry, Anderson. I didn't listen to you, since I blend out every single thing around me that isn't necessary for the case and **you** are definitely one of those things. Now, would you please shut up. You're lowering the IQ of the whole street. **Again**."

Now John was next to Anderson's ear with his head. „And don't you dare ever call him freak again, understood?"

With a slight nod, Anderson went off, kinda hiding behind Donovan.

„If we could get to the important things now."  
And as soon as Lestrade had said these words, Sherlock took his glass out, kneeled down next to the body and did „his thing", as John called it.

„_You can't be allowed to continue."_

Those were his words. And John couldn't get them out of his head.

„Cause of death, John?" He was ripped out of his thoughts. „Excuse me, what did you say?" „Cause of death, John."

While John kneeled down, Sherlock stood up and walked around the body, kneeling down every now and then, mumbling something nobody understood.

„Difficult to say, but I'd go with poison. I can't see any wounds on his body."

Lestrade just stood there, watching and waiting for something Sherlock wanted to share with the rest of the world. And as if he'd read Lestrades mind, he started his „magic" (Johns words).

„So, we have a dead guy in his early thirties in a nightgown in the backyard. I presume the house belongs to him, so he must be rather prosperous. He doesn't wear a ring which indicates that he is not married, so he's a bachelor not even having a girlfriend. According to his expensive clothing he should have worn, he seems to be working as an escort as he is also looking quite neat. Since John goes with poison, I'd say it was hemlock because he smells like mice out of his mouth. But John missed a thing, there is a wound in his stomach. A stab wound, to be exact. Probably a kitchen knife which the perpetrator took with him. The nightgown is dry while the grass and the body are wet. It did rain the past night, so he must have been lying here at least since 11pm yesterday. The nightgown was put on by someone else since it's dry, but where are his clothes? I presume the perpetrator took it since it was full of blood. Since there is no pool of blood beneath him, it's sure he didn't die here but he was dropped. All of this indicates that there are two culprits. One, who poisoned him and another one who stabbed him. This is so exciting!"

Sherlock put the glass in his pocket and jumped slightly from excitement.

John had drifted off again while Sherlock had made his deductions.

„_I'm gonna kill you eventually."_

_-He couldn't. He won't.-_

The jumping made him come back to reality again. He saw Sherlock leave and followed him quickly. As Sherlock hailed for a cab, John just stood there lost in his thoughts. They rode the way back to their flat in complete silence and when they entered, Sherlock shut the door and sat down in his armchair, cross-legged, looking at John who had been so absent since the thing with Jim Moriarty.

„John, are you alright?" He didn't want to sound concerned, but the words were out, so he just left it there, waiting for an answer.

It took a while, but eventually he heard John mumbling, something about death.

„John? I asked you if you were alright."

_-Didn't he hear what I said or was he trying to simply ignore me?-_

John peeked his head around the corner and looked directly at Sherlock.

„Yeah, I'm fine."

Sherlock knew it wasn't true, but left it at that.

_-He'll come to me when he's ready to talk about whatever's bothering him.-_

* * *

„_I will burn the heart out of you."_

John was lying in his bed, thinking.

As was Sherlock just beneath his room.

_-He has changed since the thing with Moriarty. He's been distant almost all the time.-_

_We took it all apart  
But I'm wishing I'd stayed_

_-It had been so close. If John hadn't been involved, I'd have shot him.-_

_In the back room something I heard you say_

_-Death, wasn't it?-_

_We didn't want to call it too early  
Now it seems a world away  
But I miss that day, are we ever gonna feel the same? _

_-It was the only time I'd met him. But I'll get to him once more, I've done it before.-_

John laid in his bed, running over Moriarty's words over and over again.

_Standing in the light till it's over  
Out of our minds_

_-I need to get it out of my head. But it'll be alright as long as Sherlock's safe.-_

_Someone had to draw a line_

_-He did. He drew the line and Sherlock blurred it by coming that close.-_

Sherlock got out of bed and went into the living room, sitting down in his armchair, cross-legged.

_We'll be coming back for you one day_

_-I'll get to you once again for threatening John. Whether you believe it or not.-_

John turned in his bed, facing the door, secretly hoping Sherlock would come in.

_I don't even care if I know you  
Out of our minds_

_-I don't care, I just want it out of my head.-_

He heard him twisting in his bed but sat still.

_Sad to leave it all behind  
We'll be coming back  
We'll be coming back for you one day_

_-This is a promise, Moriarty. I'll get to you. Whenever you're ready, I'll accept the challenge.-_

He sat there until the sun came through the half-closed curtains and then he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. John stepped in, obviously still half-asleep.

„Tea?"

He looked at him, worriedly glancing at the rims of John's eyes. In a flash, he stood in front of him, close, **too close**, caressing the shadows of Moriarty shown on John's face.

They stood there for a while, John just looking at him as Sherlock kept on stroking the visible hurt.

There was a tension you could've cut with a knife. But John eventually broke it by turning around to make the tea.

„I'd love some. Had a rough night?"

Though John didn't answer, Sherlock could already tell from the shadows he'd been caressing.

„_I will burn the heart out of you." - „I have been reliably informed that I don't have one."_

„You lied."

Sherlock just looked at him. „What?"

„_But we both know that's not quite true."_

„You lied and Moriarty was right."

Now Sherlock seemed completely confused. What a rare state.

„What about?"

„You do have a heart, Sherlock Holmes."

And with that, he took his cup of tea and went up to his bedroom, leaving Sherlock really confused for the first time.


	2. Chapter 2 - Dreaming of You

_**AN:**_ Here's chapter 2, the song is Dreaming of you by The Coral (Known from „Scrubs")

I was so happy to have 100 people look at this, I was grinning all day, so I thought why not give you chapter 2?

I'm also working on another fanfiction, so stay tuned ;)

Enter Molly :)

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own anything except for the plot. Sherlock belongs to BBC, Steven Moffat & Mark Gatiss who borrowed it from Sir ACD. The song lyrics I used belong to The Corak. Nothing is mine, if it were, I'd be the happiest person on earth, I guess.

_**Chapter 2 – Dreaming of You:**_

As Molly walked into the morgue, she put her white coat on, starting to feel the cold of her daily working place.

_-I'm sure Lestrade has already contacted him. Won't be long until he shows up. Hair done, slight lipstick...-_

She had her hair parted at one side and wore the same lipstick she had put on when John had first shown up.

A man showed up, bringing her another guy who'd jumped from a building, she gave him her signature and he rushed of quickly, slightly shivering.

And there she was, alone again. Well, alone as in the only one in the room still being able to breathe. She did her work as if she didn't mind but you could read it from the look on her face that she did mind.

As soon as she heard footsteps, **his** footsteps, her heartbeat went faster. She tried her best to pull it together and she'd soon find out if she did alright. Yes, he was „Mr. Know-it-all", but she tried.

„He said something about a guy jumping from a building in the middle of the day."

„But you don't believe he jumped, do you?"

„Obviously."

_-His voice is so... I just love it...-_

She was so deep in thought, she even missed Sherlock coming up behind her. She turned around when she smelled that familiar scent, still reddish.

„Good Morning, Molly."

„H-Hi, Sh-Sherlock. John."

„Hi, Molly."

There was an awkward pause between them and the tension was touchable.

„So, Molly. Can we see the body of the guy who 'fell' from the building?"

This sentence tore her out of her thoughts.

„Er, yes sure."

She led them over, holding a clipboard tightly to her chest.

„He was in good shape, 25."

„Obviously. He had internal bleedings which leads to this being the cause of death amongst the fractures he has. It looks like suicide but it wasn't. A gun was held to his head, he was going to die eventually, so he decided to jump instead of getting shot. His hands look worked which indicates he must've been working at a construction site despite the fast that he is well-built."

Molly seemed to have stopped listening as she only stared at Sherlock, now slightly shuddering.

_-How does he do that? His hair, his eyes, his clothes, his smell, his skin,... his everything. Gosh, he's so adorable, so smart,... so everything-_

„Molly? Did you hear what I said?"

„Uhm, what?"

„Could we take another look at that man that was found in the backyard?"

„The paper's have already gone through."

Sherlock looked away from her as she looked down on the ground. Suddenly Sherlock takes a step towards her to take a closer look at Molly

„Your hair looks different", earning a confused look from Molly. „It's usually parted in the middle." She smiled at him, her cheeks blushing. „Suits you better this way. And are you wearing lipstick? Looks good on you."

„Thank You, I thought I'd try something new..."

_-He knows exactly how to get me. He **is** „Mr. Know-it-all"-_

She smiled foolishly but eventually gave in and pulled the body out again.

„The wound was done to him by a kitchen knife-"

„Obviously."

It was silent for a short moment, but Molly pulled herself together and continued.

„The blade was smooth and 6cm long. And you were right once again, Sherlock. He was poisoned with hemlock." She started smiling again, which didn't go unnoticed by John.

„Erm, Sherlock?" He cleared his throat which made Sherlock step away from Molly, turn around an look at John. „Wasn't there anything else you wanted to say to Molly before we leave?"

Sherlock took some seconds while Molly looked at him with gleaming eyes.

„Right." He looked up and down on her. „You've been putting on 3 pounds since I last saw you."

Her jaw dropped slightly without Sherlock noticing. „Two and a half!"

„Naw, three."

John turned his back towards Sherlock and put his hands over his face.

_-He did **not** just say **that**. Oh no, **he did not**.-_

He turned around again and took Sherlock by his arm, mumbling a quick „Thank you, Molly. I think we've got everything we need" and tugged him out of the Morgue, leaving Molly alone **again**.

„That was not what I had in mind when I asked you about something else to say."

„I was just being civil."  
„No you weren't."

Those were the last words she heard before the door went shut and Molly just stood there, staring at herself.

_-Where did he see that?-_

She was distant for the rest of the day, always thinking about her weight.

When her working day was over, she got into her car, driving home.

As she entered her small and empty flat, she felt even worse than this morning in the morgue.

One could see she was still over the moon for Sherlock despite everything he says. But obviously he still was the only one missing out on that fact.

Sighing she went into her bathroom, taking a shower before she went to bed.

_-Here I am again, crying over him, but still in love...-_

_What's up with my heart when it skips a beat?_

_Can't feel no pavement right under my feet_

_-Yup, as always when I've seen him.-_

_Up in my lonely room_

_-lying in my bed crying.-_

_When I'm dreaming of you_

_-Which I do all the time...- _she added in thought

_Oh what can I do?  
I still need you, _

_-Because I always do.- but  
I don't want you now_

And then she silently cried herself to sleep, dreaming of him, of course.

* * *

As John and Sherlock made their way home, Sherlock pulled out his phone and typed on it like crazy, pushed the „Send" button and then turned his head to look at John.

„What?", was all he asked when he realized Sherlock staring at him.

„What was it that you wanted to remind me to say to Molly?"

_-Great, I thought he was going to go on about what I said yesterday.-_

„Something like a 'Thank you, Molly' instead of going on about her weight."

„I simply observed. She was lying about those two and a half pounds nonetheless. It were definitely thr-" John cut him off.

„It doesn't matter. You could at least **try** to be civil. Maybe I was wrong about what I said yesterday."

And as he realized what he'd just said, he threw his hands in front of his mouth.

„Yes, what exactly did you mean by what you said?"

_-And now what, John?-_


	3. Chapter 3 - Where'd you go?

**_AN:_** First off, I'd like to thank all of you who read the story. When I saw the number of views going up, I was like: Whoa O.o I was totally flashed and happy :) Don't know when I'll be updating again, won't be regular though. Probably when I find the time after the muse has kissed me :P

Secondly, I'd like to give a special shoutout to Aniakchuk, Awsomazing87, Lizzie-Loves-Books4743, TheOtherGuyHulk & wednsday for alerting & Cornelia (Can't write your pen name out here, sorry) for favoriting my story. You six have made me incredibly happy by doing so ;)

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own anything except for the plot, blah, blah, blah. You know the drill. Lyrics belong to Fort Minor, to be exact Mike Shinoda because he wrote this incredible stuff. He is now with Linkin Park again.

That's chapter 3, the song is Where'd you go by Fort Minor.

Search coming up.

_**Chapter 3 – Where'd you go?:**_

He just stood there, staring through Sherlock, not knowing what to say. He didn't have the guts to say what was on his mind, so he just stayed silent.

„Tell me, John. **Now**."

_-I can't. I wish I could but I don't know how.-_

„I can tell something's bothering you and I'll find out eventually but I'd like you to tell me, so I can help you." Sherlock started pouting.

_-Help me? Why...? How...? Doesn't matter...-_

„Would you just talk to me, **please**?" He slightly tilted his head to the side.

_-How could I possibly say no to that begging eyes...-_

John took a deep breath and chose his words wisely.

„Although I enjoy going on the hunt with you, the thing with Moriarty just... keeps creeping up inside me, haunting me in my dreams. I know, I've been in Afghanistan, so I should be used to some things, but... it still sends shivers down my spine whenever I think about it. I admit it, I was frightened when we were by the pool, I had the explosive belt tied around my waist and"-

Sherlock cut him off by surprising him with a hug.

_-Wow! That's unusual and rare and... nice, warm, comforting...-_

John had known Sherlock for quite a while now but **this** was something he'd never have expected.

_-... and those snipers aiming at you.- _he finished his sentence in thought.

„And...?"

John looked up at Sherlock who had a look in his eyes that he couldn't define.

_-Say it!-_

_-Don't make me.-_

_-I want you to say what you wanted to say.-_

They stood still, looking at each other, only talking through their eyes.

„...and those snipers aiming at you..."

Sherlock just gave him a confused look.

„You saved me back there, although he could've gotten you killed. I mean, how was I supposed to not be worried about you?"

_-Wonder if I made it...-_

_-Worried about me? Like that happens all the time. But he really meant it.-_

„You lied, Sherlock when you said you don't have a heart and Moriarty was right. Because you do have a heart, Sherlock Holmes."

What John said only sounded like a whisper now, but it had the same effect it would've had if he had shouted it out into the world.

Sherlock took John in his arms once again, both enjoying the scent of the other quietly.

* * *

As soon as they walked into their flat without exchanging any words, Sherlock's phone beeped.

„Text from Lestrade. He got the guys who murdered the 'backyard guy' somehow together."  
„But how did he know...? Never mind."

As John waited for Sherlock to say something else _-I know there's more.-_, he went into the kitchen to make tea.

„Sherlock, I know there's something else in the text, so just tell me what's up."

He waited for an answer but there was only silence.

„Sherlock?" He looked around to see him spread out on the sofa, already asleep.

A smile hushed across his face as he filled his cup to leave the room quietly. He took a blanket off Sherlock's bed and spread it to cover him before he went to bed himself, sipping his tea.

* * *

It wasn't a steady sleep and it was dreamless, but he was glad for it.

_-Better than those nightmares again and again...-_

He heard something from downstairs and went to get up to open the door as Sherlock stood in his room.

„Get dressed, John. I need you."

_-Wait. What?!-_

„I cracked the case of the jumping guy during my sleep. Weird, but anyway, let's get this guy!"

John was still half-asleep but did as told and as soon as he got downstairs, Sherlock threw his coat at him.

„Let's go" was the last thing John heard before Sherlock was out the door. He hurried down the stairs, trying to keep up with him.

Not knowing where they went, John just walked beside Sherlock who hastily took out his beeping phone.

„Got the address."

Sherlock hailed for a cab and they stopped in front of a big house with a large yard.

_-Posh. But Lestrade is nowhere to be seen. Are we really doing this all by ourselves?-_

„Sherlock? What did Lestrade write?"

„I only got the address. He asked why I wanted it and I told him You'd give him a call as soon as we were finished here."  
„But we aren't here for you to make deductions, are we?"

„Obviously. Oops, I think he just left the house through the back door."

And with those words, Sherlock started running, his coat fluttered in the wind, while John tried to follow him.

„Turn left, then right, down the street, across the bridge, twice left and then right again. John! Try to cut his way before he crosses the bridge! Run through the alley on your left and then run straight forward! Cut him off!"

John turned and did as Sherlock told. He ran through the alley, accidentally running over people so he started shouting for them to get out of the way.

After a bit of running, he stood face to face with the guy who had forced someone to jump from a building.

The ex-Army doctor in him was totally calm but there was this side of him that gave him a weird feeling.

„Who are you?", the guy in front of John asked him.

„I could be your worst nightmare if you dare to run from me again."

_-This should do the trick.-_

He heard sirens and the guy started to look around, hastily and frightened.

Then Lestrade and his men came around the corner and the guy was trapped. He got handcuffed and they brought him to the station as Lestrade walked over to John.

„Where's Sherlock? I thought he was with you."

„He was, but then we separated so he could run after him & I cut off his way."

„Well done, both of you. Just tell him we got him and thank him for his work. I gotta go back to do the paperwork. Bye."

And with that, Lestrade ran off and John was left alone in the alley.

_-Where's Sherlock? He's always there when Lestrade catches the bad guys. Maybe he's already on the way home...-_

John pushed the bad thoughts that crawled up inside him aside and hailed for a cab to take him home.

He was dumbfounded and shocked to find the flat empty. Not a sign of Sherlock since they'd left.

He took out his phone and typed. It rang, but Sherlock didn't answer.

_-What the hell is going on?!-_

„Sherlock, it's me. Where the hell are you? I want you to call me back as soon as you can. I'll leave my phone on the whole night if you decide not to come home. Just call me back, okay?"

He hung up and threw himself on the bed.

After a few hours of waiting without anything happening, John wanted to go to bed after leaving him about 20 more messages on his mailbox.

He couldn't sleep, so he turned around in his bed, thinking.

_Some days I feel like shit,  
Some days I wanna quit, and just be normal for a bit_

_-As if that'd work with Sherlock Holmes-_

_I don't understand why you have to always be gone,  
I get along but the trips always feel so long_

_-Just because you like to do everything without the police.-_

_And, I find myself tryna stay by the phone,  
'Cause your voice always helps me when I feel so alone_

_-Just like now. If you'd just tell me you're okay and where you are...-_

_Where'd you go?  
I miss you so,  
Seems like it's been forever,  
That you've been gone_

The beeping of his mobile tore him out of his thoughts. Hoping it'd be Sherlock, he rapidly grabbed the phone from the bedside table and unlocked it. There was a new message, but he dropped the phone after having read what it said.

[From: Unknown number]

[To: Dr. John Watson]

Message: You're probably wondering who I am. This isn't important right now and you'll find out soon enough. What's more important to you is likely the safety of your friend and secret crush Sherlock Holmes, am I right?

He is fine, at least for now and if you want it so stay that way, you should do as I say. I'll get back to you tomorrow.

Sweet dreams, Dr. Watson

And he knew that this was the last thing he was going to have that night.


	4. Chapter 4 - Lead me out of the Dark

**AN:** Here we go with chapter 4, the song is Lead me out of the Dark by Crown the Empire. Not so happy with the riddle though, but I figured it's got to do something with music to make sure it all fits somehow. Hopefully ;) Just to remind you, I'm not a native speaker and this is neather beta'd nor brit-picked, so I would be happy if you could point out any mistakes as soon as you find then :)

Again thanks to everyone who read, favourited, reviewed and alerted. I'm happy about every single one :)

We get to know what happened to Sherlock and what John can and will do to get him back. Enjoy ;)

_**Chapter 4 – Lead me out of the Dark:**_

Sherlock woke up, he felt something warm against his temple. As he tried to reach up to take a look, he realized his hands were tied.

_-I assume that it's blood. Must be dry until now. How long have I even been here? Ah, my head hurts, makes it hard to think. Okay, Sherlock. Focus!_

_What is the last thing you can remember? _

_I was chasing the force-the-dude-off-the-building-guy and I had told John to cut his way off and then I was hit from behind._

_That's it?_

_Yep, pretty much._

_What about where you are?_

_No idea._

_Focus, Sherlock! Deductions._

_Okay, I'm tied to a chair with thick ropes, so nothing involving the police, I'd be handcuffed then. I can't see anything, but-_

„Ah!"

_-Yep, I'm in a room made of metal. I believe I've been kidnapped. But not by Moriarty, otherwise he'd have already been here.-_

The door opened and a bit of light got into the room before it disappeared again.

_-Company. A mind reader that is?-_

„Good Morning. I hope you slept well."

_-He or she is good, I can't tell which one. It uses a distorted voice. Clever move. And because of the room being completely dark, I can't tell from the silhouette.-_

„I've made the adjustments to make it harder for you to deduce who I am. Though I'm pretty sure You wouldn't even know if you saw me. Anyways, I sent your beloved doctor a message. He has to save you. If he fails, you are going to pay."

Sherlock didn't even hear if the person made any steps, the floor seemed to swallow that.

_-Maybe there's carpet put down here.-_

„Don't do that."

„Do what?"

„Trying to make your deductions. You can't help your dear **friend**, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. He has to do it all by himself. No you, no police. Whatever you find out wouldn't help you anyways."

And with those words, the door was opened again and the person went outside. And soon he was left alone again in the darkness.

_-I'm most likely held in a warehouse. And I can only rely on John because I have nothing to go with. I feel awful. What did they do to me?-_

„In case you're wondering, Mr. Holmes, why you're not feeling well. There is a time limit. If your Dr. John Watson doesn't make it in time, you will die. The poison in your body will slowly kill you. So, better hope he makes it before your last breath."

* * *

[From: Unknown number]

[To: Dr. John Watson]

Message: Good Morning, doctor.

So here's the deal: Your beloved Sherlock Holmes is being held by me. You are the only one to save him. He himself can't help you in any way. He doesn't know where he is or who I am and his mind is adversed. You have one day, 24 hours, from now on before you can only take him with you to put him below the grass. He will die slowly, so if you want him to stay alive, I suggest you do as I say and you better hurry up. If you go to the police, I'll kill your cute flatmate in a second. You are going to do this by yourself.

_-Not a good way to be woken up.-_

Though he didn't sleep at all, John was wide awake.

Then his phone beeped again.

[From: Unknown number]

[To: Dr. John Watson]

Message: Since you both love music so much, I need you to find out the name of the girl.

„She was a poor girl in between rich people. Her child's name was „Hope" and she was 14 when she got her. She wanted a better life for Hope but that wouldn't happen."

What is the girl's name? Blog it and you'll get a hint to where your lovely flatmate is.

_-Dammit, what was that girl's name? I need to find out **quickly**.-_

He started pacing around the apartment, thinking.

John looked up as he heard steps on the stairs, always hoping Sherlock would come in, telling him it was all just a stupid joke.

The door opened and John let out a disappointed sigh when he saw Mrs. Hudson walk in.

„John, dear, are you alright? You look really pale."

He didn't even hear her say good morning and it seemed as if he didn't even listen to what she was saying. He just kept on pacing, going over the words of the message in his head.

_-Poor girl, baby named „Hope", she was 14, wanted a better life, something about music. I know that song, I do...-_

„John, dear, why are you pacing around the room so much? And where is Sherlock anyways?"

He didn't listen, he could only think about this song.

And then he started humming.

„What are you humming, John?"

She was too curious for John's taste.

„I can't right now, Mrs. Hudson. I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave now."

He pushed her out of the door, closed it behind her and locked it.

_-Hmhm was a poor girl, living in a rich world, named her baby „Hope" when she was just 14, she was hoping for a better world for this little girl, but the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Damn, what is her name?-_

He was pacing again.

_-Two syllables. Mary? Kelly? Sally?-_

He went through all the names he could think of that consisted of two syllables.

Then it hit him.

He ran up to his room, quickly grabbed his laptop and ran back into the living room. Opening his laptop, John jumped up and down.

He opened his blog and quickly typed into the box.

„Jenny was a poor girl, living in a rich world, named her baby „Hope" when she was just 14, she was hoping for a better world for this little girl, but the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."

He couldn't even sit down and so he just stood there, waiting for his phone to beep. But it stayed quiet.

John put on his coat to get some fresh air and maybe to start searching for him as soon as the text message came, always holding his phone in his right hand. But the message wouldn't come.

* * *

As he tried to move, Sherlock felt a sudden pain set in. The ropes had started to cut his skin at his wrists. But that was not all it was. The poison seemed to tear him apart though he would never admit it. He felt pain in his stomach and he definitely had a headache. He felt sick and he really wasn't used to that.

_-Focus, Sherlock! What symptoms do we have?_

_I have a headache and pain in my stomach. I feel sick as if I'm going to throw up.-_

He fiddled with his hands, trying to check his pulse. It was slow and hardly traceable.

_-Oh no, they **did not**. They poisoned me with hemlock. Seriously? Could they be any less unimaginative? They are all idiots, that is just dull.-_

John was still looking at his phone, hoping it would do him a favour and start beeping when he went into thoughts again.

_It's not quite a mystery.  
I'm the one who's insecure_

_-Just about everything except your brain.-_

He smiled a bit at that thought.

_You're the one that makes believe,  
That we're all okay, we're doing fine,  
When we're both fighting just to stay,  
To stay alive _

_-Every time we try to take matters into out own hands. Without the help of the police.-_

He kept on walking, still in thoughts.

And as the weakness started to take over, Sherlock tried to keep his thoughts together.

_Without a doubt, I need your help.  
I know you've heard me ask before_

_-Though I would never admit that to any of those other idiots, especially to IQ-lowerer Anderson, but I need your help, John.-_

_The only way out of here is the way I've avoided for all my life._

_-Asking for help. Asking you, John, to help me._

_There's so many things I wanna say._

_-How much I love your tea, for instance.- _A smile came over his face.

_But there's too many things still in the way_

_-Yeah, the rope, the poison, the me-being-here-without-anyone-who-cares-knowing-thing.-_

_I'm lost, please help me find my place.  
You're the only one, please lead me out of the dark_

_-I know you can do this, John. Just get me out of here.-_

And just then, his mind shut off to make the pain in his body ease a bit and he fell to the ground with the chair he was tied to falling with him. But he didn't notice all that anymore, falling into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5 - A bad Dream

**AN:** So, while I wrote this chapter, I cried. Yep, I'm very fragile when it comes to stuff like this. My keyboard wasn't drowning, but it was like standing in the rain with an umbrella who has holes. (Uh, umbrella reference xD) So I hope you got some tissues at hand if you're fragile... Just sayin'...

**Warning: Character death which resulted in me crying like a baby!**

I want to thank briongloid fiodoir for the reviews :) I won't give anything away, you'll just have to wait and see, or rather read ;) Also thanks to you, IamSHERlocked4ever, waterbaby84 & DalekCyberAngel for alerting, you 4, along with the others totally made my days, like seriously :)

Once again: I own nothing but the plot. Sherlock belongs to Mark Gatiss & Steven Moffat who lent it from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Thanks dude for making them! *high-five*

This is chapter 5, the song is A Bad Dream by Keane (I absolutely love this song *-*). Anyways, the lyrics belong to Keane, more precisely to Tim Rice-Oxley.

Hurt!Sherlock, Bamf!John and Government!Mycroft all in one chapter! Plus we get a hint where Sherlock might be, so John has to use his "merely impressive deducing skills" with or without help...

Enough with the talky-talk, on with the story. Enjoy :)

_**Chapter 5 – A Bad Dream:**_

He ran through a long hallway, his gun in the back of his pants, ready to pull it out when he has to. He had called Lestrade for backup, but he just couldn't bear the thought of Sherlock hurting or even dying while he was waiting for Lestrade and his men to arrive. He looked around, always expecting someone to come round a corner, but it seemed he was alone.

„Goddammit, Sherlock. Where the hell are you?", he quietly said to himself while moving forward.

Suddenly he heard a noise, pulled out his gun and went behind a corner, slowly looking around. A man came out of one room, hands bloody. He took out a tissue and wiped the blood off, revealing just a small cut.

_-He must have hit someone. This small a cut can't bleed that much. Oh god, maybe Sherlock is in there.-_

John prepared himself for the worst scenarios, inhaled and leaned against the wall. Then he heard steps coming towards him. He lifted his gun and aimed. A shot in the head and John moved on.

He still held the gun tight, always looking around to make sure he was alone now. As he stood in front of the metal door, he deeply inhaled once again, pushing aside the thoughts of Sherlock unconscious, brutally beat up, shot or dead. John slowly and carefully opened the door, a tiny bit of light flooding in. His heart sank at the sight of Sherlock in front of him.

_-Love, what have they done to you?-_

„Oh my god, what have they done to you, Sherlock?"

„John." Sherlock let out a content sigh. „I'm so... glad you're here." His voice was only just a whisper. „So... glad... found me..."

„Shh, I'm here to save you for a change, Sherlock."  
John tried to untie Sherlock to get him out of here as he realized that Sherlock didn't look at him anymore. He was lying on the floor, tied to the chair, eyes closed.

„Sherlock? Sherlock, wake up!"

He lifted his hand to Sherlock's neck to check his pulse. He could hardly feel it.

„Stay with me!" He lightly slapped his cheeks while with one hand he took his Swiss Army Knife out of his pocket and tried to cut the ropes that held Sherlock's hands in place.

As he had him free of the ropes, John carefully laid Sherlock on his back, trying to get his pulse again, but he couldn't find it. He held his ear to Sherlock's mouth, but heard no breathing. He tried a cardiac massage to get his love to breathe again, counting in his head while he talked to him.

„Sherlock. You're not going to leave me here, do you hear me? Don't leave me now, Sherlock!"  
John's voice cracked as a tear found his way down his cheek. He was close to Sherlock's ear, now whispering.

„Don't leave me, Sherlock. Don't do this to me! I need you, you can't just leave me alone here in this world. I haven't even told you what I wanted to tell you for so long. I love you, Sherlock, more than anything else in the world."

He laid his head onto Sherlock's chest, his I'm-a-doctor-I-need-to-focus-side completely broken and just cried his heart out.

„You can't do this to me. What am I supposed to do without you? What am I gonna do with my life if the most important part in it is gone for good? How am I supposed to go on when you're not there with me? Can you tell me that?"

He looked up at him, hoping Sherlock would simply open his eyes and tell him he's alright, he won't leave him. But his hopes were crushed when he checked Sherlock's pulse and breathing again where there was none anymore.

And he just sat there crying his heart out on Sherlock's chest which wasn't moving anymore as he heard steps behind him. John took out his gun and turned around immediately, lifting it and aiming at the open door. Lestrade walked in sight and John lowered his gun, tears streaming down his face.

„Over here!", Lestrade shouted at his men. „Get the medics over here, quick!"

People came running in, kneeling down beside John, who now held Sherlock's head in his lap, still crying and kissing his face.

John struggled with the medics trying to get to Sherlock, so John screamed in their faces he's a doctor himself and he'd already tried to save him but he'd failed.

_-I failed on you, Sherlock. I wasn't able to save you like you did when Moriarty had taken me. I failed miserably. And I'm so, so sorry I left you. I shouldn't have... I love you... Always have, always will...-_

He woke up, his heart pounding heavily in his chest, Sherlock's purple shirt sticking to his skin. It felt like he would explode any minute. He just couldn't bear the thought of Sherlock being gone for good. The worry about Sherlock made him get lost in thoughts again.

_Where do we go?_

_-To find you-_

_I don't even know my strange old face  
And I'm thinking about those days_

_-When you were here with me. With your cutting comments, your crazy experiments, everything.-_

_I wake up, it's a bad dream, no one on my side_

_-I wish you were here, right here with me, safe...-_

_I was fighting but I just feel too tired to be fighting  
Guess I'm not the fighting kind_

_-Well, I tried fighting my feelings. But that didn't go well, did it?- _A foolish smile stole across his face.

_Wouldn't mind it if you were by my side_

_-Quite the opposite, I want you here with all you are.-_

_But you're long gone, yes you're long gone now_

_-Too long... And I'm gonna do something about it.-_

So he got up, still sore from last night, sniffing the shirt -_It still smells like him.- _and grabbed his phone. On the way to the empty kitchen, he still flinched at the sight and thought, he dialed Lestrade.

„John? Are you alright? Haven't seen you and Sherlock for a while."

_-Well, let's see. The most important thing in my live is not with me, but instead held by some crazy lunatic, probably torturing him or worse. I tried helping him but the bloody kidnapper just wouldn't get back to me and I'm just so tired of all that. So yeah, I'm bloody fucking fine!-_

„Well, didn't sleep that well and it's quite silent without...-" He cut himself off. "Sherlock's away."

„Okay. Tell him I've got a case he might want to look at. Possibly a 9."

„Will do. I gotta hang up now, Lestrade"  
„Alright. Let me know if you need anything."  
„Will do. Thank you"

"Sure thing."

He threw the phone on the table and made himself a cup of tea. It always helped him getting his thoughts back together. As he wanted to dial Mycroft's number, his phone rang.

_-Goddammit, Mycroft! Do you always have to know what I'm up to?-_

He picked up and answered, slightly shocked.

„Mycroft. I was about to call you."  
„I know." _-Of course you bloody do.-_ „And I already did what you wanted to ask me."  
At these words, a tiny rock fell off John's shoulders.

„Really? What did you find out?"

„Not much unfortunately. But I can tell you who the mobile belongs to. It's turned off, so I can't trace it right now. The name is Jennifer Cartrell. Ring any bells?"

„No, not really. Anything unusual about her?"

„It's as if she doesn't exist. Except the mobile, she doesn't seem to own anything. I couldn't even get hold of a birth certificate."

As these words were out, John's mobile beeped.

„Gotta hang up, I got a message. Thanks for your work, Mycroft. Could you please keep this out of the police work?"  
„Sure."

He checked his messages and opened the newly received one.

[From: Unknown number]

[To: Dr. John Watson]

Message: There you go, Dr. Watson. I knew you'd figure it out. Was easy, wasn't it? So, as the gentle person that I am, here's the hint I promised: I am alone, but there are lots who are like me.

_-What the...?- _He kept on reading:

I hold a lot of secrets but you won't notice. You walk past one of us every day but it doesn't seem as if we're there.

You'd better hurry up if you want to save your beloved detective. He is in a lot of pain. I hope to see you soon, lovely John.

xx

_-What the hell is she talking about?-_

He paced up and down fiddling with the buttons on Sherlock's shirt that still smelled like him.

_-God, he smells so damn good... Focus, John! WwSd?- _He sighed. _-He would already know the answer by now.-_

He re-read the message as he heard a voice inside his head.

„_John, think. I know you can solve this. You're so damn smart. Don't just look, observe."_

„But how am I supposed to solve this? You are always the one to solve the riddles."

„_John, believe in yourself the way I believe in you. You know the answer to this stupid hint. Solve it."_

„I can't, Sherlock. Riddles are your part and emotions are mine. Help me."

„_It's supposed to be a location where they keep me, right? It's alone, but not. Which means the building is empty but there are lots of it."_

„Empty buildings?"

„_Obviously. Go on, John! You walk past one of them every day. Think!"_

He paced around the living room, thinking.

_-An empty building nobody really notices..., I walk past one every day...-_

„Sherlock, are we talking about a warehouse here?"

„_Obviously, John. I knew you'd figure it out."_

„Obviously." He smiled at using the word that reminded him of Sherlock the most.

As his phone rang, he knew who it was. He took the call and yelled into the speaker:"Sherlock's in a warehouse, Mycroft! We need to find him!"

„I know exactly which one it is, John. Get in the car that is waiting outside the flat and I'll bring you there."

_-Thank God Mycroft's not the police but 'the government'.-_ John ran to get a jeans, not caring he still wore the 'purple shirt of sex' as he liked to call it, took his gun and went out the door in a hurry.

_-And thank God Mycroft knows everything...-_

* * *

__**AN:** Yep, sorry, me again. I know this may not make much sense, but it's going to get more confusing in the later chapters. So if anything remains unclear, which I hope doesn't happen, you may ask what this is all about :) I mean, I knew what I was going to write and how the story will go on and end, but if you have difficulties following the plot I imagined, don't hesitate to ask, I'll gladly explain without giving much away. I won't bite, don't worry ;)

And another thing: I was planning on updating weekly on the weekend. Hopefully I can keep it up like that ;)

That's about it. Thanks for reading, especially thank you for reading all this AN-Stuff^^

You are an amazing bunch of people, I love you, xx


	6. Chapter 6 - Keep Holding On

**AN:** Before we go on with chapter 6, I'll have to add MadamBoastALot to the list of people who make me really happy ;) Thank you so much for alerting my story. You all are **the** bunch of lovely people!

And I need to apologize for missing my usual weekendly update. I'm sorry, you don't want to know why I missed it, not important.

As always, I own nothing. If I would write Sherlock, it would be pretty much shit, but well... Whatcanyado?

The lyrics belong to whoever sang it originally, I can't tell you because I don't know and I'm not sure I'd be interested if I were in your position^^

Here we go with chapter 6, the song is Keep Holding on as seen on Glee. (Yep, big fan^^, but nothing can compete with Sherlock :P)

Okay, John's got a little Déjà-vu, Sherlock may be saved or not... We'll see, happy reading ;)

_**Chapter 6 – Keep Holding on:**_

The car held in front of a rather small warehouse. John got out and made his way to the front door, his gun already in his hand.

_-It looks just like the one in my dream. Please let this not come true. Hold on, Sherlock. I'll be right there, hold on just a little longer.-_

It was just like in his dream. Sneaking around, probably even the guy coming out of the room. He was scared, no doubt about that. Every step he took made him more nervous. He was going to see Sherlock again, but he feared that his dream might in the end come true. He slowly made his way through the long hallways, not letting the fear take control over him.

_-Sherlock would laugh at me if he saw me right now.-_

„_No, I wouldn't, John. It's all just because you care. Be careful."_

A small smile stole across his face. He also liked his in-my-head-Sherlock. But nothing could trade for the real Sherlock with his Sherlock-smell, his Sherlock-attitude and his way of just being _Sherlock_.

As he went deeper into the warehouse, he saw the man he hoped he wouldn't see this time.

_-No, please not...-_

The fear of his dream coming true crept its way up inside John. But he pushed it aside nevertheless. He came here for a reason. He came here to get Sherlock back and no creepy and stupid dream was going to stop him.

So he hid behind the corner as the man cleaned his hand with a tissue. He decided to knock the guy unconscious and got over to the door he came out. John's heart pounded heavily in his chest. He took one deep breath, trying to calm down and opened the heavy metal door.

There he was, lying on the floor, tied to a chair, bleeding. His eyes were closed, he was unconscious, obviously.

„Oh my God, Sherlock!"

John knelt next to him, checking his pulse and his breathing.

_-He's still breathing, thank God.-_

He took out his Swiss Army Knife, cut the ropes and tried to wake him up.

„John? Is that you?"

„Yes, Sherlock. I'm right here. I'll take care of you, but we need to get out of here. Can you stand up?"

„I guess."

As he tried to stand up, his legs gave way under him and John pulled him close, an arm around Sherlock's waist to support him. Although Sherlock protested, nagging John that he's perfectly capable of walking on his own, thank you very much, John made sure they made it out of there together. As they stepped out into the daylight, John looked around to see a whole lot of police cars and an ambulance.

He dragged Sherlock along to the ambulance car and made him lie down on the stretcher. He wanted to turn around but a hand grabbed him by the wrist and the voice he loved so much told him in a weak and low, purring sound: "Don't leave..."

_-How could I say no to **that**?-_

So, he asked to stay with him and together, they drove to the hospital, a black car right behind them.

_-Obviously.-_

* * *

As they arrived at the hospital, John was forced to wait out in the hall while they ushered Sherlock away quickly. He knew what that meant.

_-They are going to operate on him...-_

Mycroft arrived as John sat down, slowly breathing in and out to calm himself down. They sat in silence for what felt like forever, but Mycroft broke it.

„He made it out of there thanks to you, John. And he will live, also thanks to you."

John just stared at the floor, not saying anything. That was until a doctor came towards them and John jumped up from his chair to greet him.

„I'm Dr. Morento.-" John let him merely introduce himself before the questions about Sherlock's well-being bubbled out of him.

„How is he, doctor? What did you do with him? How bad was it? Can I go see him?-"

He was stopped by Mycroft's hand on his shoulder.

„My name is Mycroft Holmes, I'm Sherlock Holmeses brother. Would you be so kind to answer the questions this man just asked?"

„We had to relieve the pressure on his brain and there were some internal bleedings. We managed to stop those and the bruises he has will heal on their own. He had two broken ribs, they must've treated him pretty badly and there's one other thing..."

„What is it, doctor?"

„Mr. Holmes fell into a coma." All the colour went from John's face immediately when he slumped back against the wall, just to slide down against it. „We are trying to wake him up as soon as possible, but even if he wakes up, I can't deny that there may be brain damage."

„What about the poison?", John stammered. Mycroft looked at him, shocked.

_-Yeah, haven't told him that.-_

„We managed to get it out of his system. He lives, thanks to you, Mr. Watson."

His beeper rang and the doctor excused himself as John asked the most important question – at least for him – again.

„Can I see him?"

The doctor turned around again to look at John with an apologetic look.

„Of course, he's in room 221."

Then the doctor disappeared and John let his head sink and covered his face with his hands.

_-If he doesn't have his brain, he is going to go completely mad. Please, don't let this happen...-_

John felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up.

„You should go see him, John. He would want you with him."

John stood up and slowly walked towards Sherlock's room. He took one deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to see before he turned the doorknob, pushed the door open and walked into the room.

_-Oh my... What have they done to you?-_

He wasn't prepared for that and as soon as he stepped in, John felt his heart break at that sight. There were tubes everywhere and his body was covered in bandages.

_-Your curls... your beautiful brown curls...-_

John couldn't hold back the tears that started to flood down his cheeks as he walked towards the bed, the constant beeping of the ECG-machine in his ear. He took a chair and sat down, carefully taking Sherlock's right hand in his, covering it soothingly with his other. He looked at Sherlock, slightly calming down at the sight of his chest going up and down.

"You... can't... you can't leave me... here, Sherlock!", John managed to say in between sobs. "What am I supposed to do without you now? How is London supposed to go on without you? And how many cases will remain unsolved on Lestrade's desk without your genius?"

He wanted to stop crying and bent his head down, sniffing as his eyes saw the purple silk on his chest that didn't fit him at all.

"I even wear your shirt and sleep in your bed just because I can't bear the thought of you being gone, Sherlock... I want you to wear it again, not just because it **is** yours, but also because you look so damn good in it..."  
John heard the door behind him open and close, not looking away from Sherlock or separating an inch of the skin of his hands from Sherlock's. He knew it was Mycroft standing behind him, but he still didn't look up as he said the following words: "You may stay here in this very room. There won't be any need to leave his side. A bed for you will be brought in any minute."

"Thank you, Mycroft." John never looked away or let go of Sherlock's hand. "I really appreciate it."

He knew that Mycroft would leave and so he tore his gaze off Sherlock and looked up at him.

Mycroft just nodded and gave him an apologetic look as he turned around and left the room. John heard him talk to someone before he left the building. The door behind him opened again and a bed was ushered inside, not far from Sherlock's.

John was sure, he wouldn't get much sleep tonight if any at all and he wouldn't want to let go of Sherlock's hand, but his back ached and so he got up and laid down on the bed. He looked over to the side and found Sherlock's chest still rising and drop steadily. It calmed him but he pushed his bed to Sherlock's as close as possible to be able to hold his hand and intertwined their fingers.

_You're not alone  
Together we stand  
I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand_

_-Just like I do now to make sure you're still here with me...-_

_When it gets cold  
And it feels like the end  
There's no place to go  
You know won't give in_

_-I'll be there. I won't move out no matter how annoying you are.-_

_Keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

_-I know you'll come back to me. You can't bear the thought of all those unsolved riddles.-_ A smile hushed over his face.

_Just stay strong  
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you_

_-Always...-_

_There's nothing you could say  
Nothing you could do_

_-To drive me away-_

_There's no other way when it comes to the truth  
So keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through_

_-Together, just like we made it through everything else.-_

He could hear John but he couldn't react to what he was saying. He could even feel the warmth of John's hands enclosing his left hand.

_-John... **My** John...-_

_So far away  
I wish you were here_

_-I mean, technically you are, but... You know what I mean.-_

_Before it's too late, this could all disappear  
Before the doors close_

_And it comes to an end _

_-I heard what they said, that I almost died...-_

_With you by my side I will fight and defend  
I'll fight and defend_

_-Because you give me the strength to, John...- _And then he let sleep overcome him.

* * *

**AN:** Because my next update will be on the coming weekend, I wish you all a Merry Christmas! Have a lovely time with your family, eat and stuff and really, be nice to each other. Enjoy the time!

Love you all, xoxo


	7. Chapter 7 - Natural Disaster

**AN:** Gotcha with that chapter, didn't I? ;) Yeah, I know I can be mean, but it'll get nicer, promise :)

Dafuq? I actually manage to stay with weekly updates. Hooray :) Didn't think I would with work pulling me in and sleep coming over me. Anyways...

I'd like to thank meep484 for favouriting and alerting my story :) All of you who read already make me happy, but alerting, faving and stuff just makes my day every day :) So thank you, you bunch of lovely people!

I need to say though: It's going to get a bit OOC which is intended not just for the plot to work, but also for clarification. You'll understand ;)

**Disclaimer:** If I'd own any of this, I would have

a) more "friends"

and b) more money, so I wouldn't work where I work, now would I?

Sherlock belongs to Stefen Moffat & Mark Gatiss who borrowed it from ACD, only without giving it back^^

The lyrics of the song I used belong to Example & Laidback Luke. If you don't know the song you should at least give it a try. One way to get to know my taste in music.

So here we go with chapter 7. The song is Example (once again ;)) & Laidback Luke – Natural Disaster. Have fun reading! :)

_**Chapter 7 – Natural Disaster:**_

Sherlock woke up and felt like he couldn't breathe.

_-Right, tube in the throat. Bit not good breathing through the mouth then.-_

He started coughing and John jumped up from his chair.

"Sherlock?" He pressed the red button immediately. "Calm down, everything's alright. It's fine. The doctor will be here in a second."

As he said that, the door opened and said doctor entered the room. John stepped aside so they could pull the tube out.

"Breathe out, please. There you go. Now you can breathe on your own again through your mouth."

He went outside again, but John still heard him talking in the hallway.

"How's that even possible? It's been 8 years since he fell into that coma. I never believed he'd wake up again."

_-Neither did I...-_

A sore and quiet but still familiar voice tore John out of his thoughts.

"Jawn?" He turned to his former flatmate. "You haven't slept much and you're fairly older. How long have I been gone?"

John couldn't look Sherlock in the eyes as he said:"It's been 8 years, Sherlock. You've been in a coma the past 8 years."

Sherlock looked at him and found he could deduce. His brain was working properly. Something can't be right. Even he knew that after a coma, your brain still has difficulties putting things in the right order, especially after 8 years.

"John? Why can I deduce things about you? It shouldn't be possible after that amount of time in a coma."

John looked at him. He did look tired and he was, indeed. He hadn't slept much in the past 8 years.

"I don't know. I guess it fits. Nobody believed you'd wake up again and here you are, talking to me. You are special, Sherlock. Being able to deduce right after waking up suits the brilliance of your brain, so why should it be impossible?"

With that he walked out of the door, quickly so Sherlock couldn't see his eyes filling up with tears, leaving him behind, confused. Once again.

Sherlock was back in his life and he had no idea what had changed in John's life.

It had been turned upside down as Sherlock fell into the coma.

He didn't go to St. Bart's anymore to see Molly or go to the Yard and visit Lestrade. It reminded him of the fact that Sherlock couldn't cherish all of this anymore. Yes, John had given up hope that Sherlock would ever be able to tell Anderson what an idiot he was ever again.

Mycroft hat kept an eye on him, he knew that, but he didn't want to talk to him. He wasn't Sherlock, but no matter how different the two brothers seemed, John could always spot something that reminded him of Sherlock.

And Harry,... well she'd been rather busy with Clara and their divorce which resulted in Harry going back to the alcohol again. And John really didn't want to bother her with his problems when she had enough of her own. So who was left then to talk to?

John had pretty much cut off all the contacts after the doctors had told him that there was hardly a chance Sherlock would wake up again.

Suddenly, John felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Why did you run off? Come back here, I want to talk to you – SH

He sighed and put his phone back. Wiping the tears away, John turned around and went back to Sherlock's room. He opened the door slightly, peaking inside. Sherlock laid in his bed, looking at his phone, but as he heard the door open, he looked up and one side of his lips twitched in a small smile.

"Why'd you run off, John?" It was this one question that he'd feared.

He didn't know how to answer that and Sherlock saw how uncomfortable the situation was for John.

"You don't have to answer that one if you don't want to."

A small nod and a quiet "Okay" made sure John understood, but he still refused to talk.

"Fine." He didn't snap at John, his voice was calm, pretty quiet but still understandable and somehow soothing.

"You're different, John. What happened? Tell me, please."

John looked him in the eyes.

_-Did he just say Please?-_

"Yes, I did." He smiled.

"It was a hard time for me, Sherlock. I felt like as if I'd lost you. I had to move on if I didn't want to break down. I was crushed, Sherlock...

Mycroft observed me all the time and if he hadn't stopped me, I wouldn't be standing here right now. He made me move on because it would've destroyed me otherwise." He swallowed hard before going on. "So I moved on and then I met Sarah. She was sweet and loving and she got me out of this black hole I'd been falling down ever since you fell into a coma. I fell in love with her and we were expecting a child."

_-"Were"? Why past tense...? No...-_

"Were? Did she...? "Yes, Sherlock." He looked down on the floor, tears in his eyes again.

"How?" This made John look up again. "What?" One single word got him so out of mind?

"How did she die? If you don't mind me asking..."

John swallowed again. Usually he didn't talk much, especially about Sarah. But maybe it was about time he did, at least once. And this was Sherlock. He was different, but John had usually told him everything.

"It was exactly 3 months ago... We'd been married for about 4 months." He held his left hand up and Sherlock saw the golden wedding band.

"She went out of the house to do the shopping, telling me she'd be back in about half an hour but she never came." The tears now found their way down his cheeks.

Sherlock hesitated to take John's hand, but he wanted to soothe him, so he did. "I'm sorry, John."

He looked him in the eye and saw how sorry he was, but to some unknown reason he couldn't bare it. John took his hand away and heard Sherlock call his name as he almost ran out of the building.

He stepped into the cold air and felt his phone buzz in his pocket once again.

Stop running away, John. You're being completely unreasonable. – SH

He didn't respond, instead he put his phone back, turned his collar up and walked straight ahead. It took only one minute before his phone told him he'd gotten another message.

John, come back. Don't you think we should talk? - SH

_-He tries not being that much Sherlock for a change...-_

He shook his head at that thought and went on walking as another message popped up on the screen.

Jawn, what are you doing? Come back here. - SH

And another one.

This is completely ridiculous, John. Come back here to talk to me, I'll listen. - SH

Yes, Sherlock was rather fond of texting, so another one popped up and John read it before he turned his phone off.

John, what is going on with you? Come back here, please. I want to talk to you. I want to see you. - SH

John sighed after he'd turned off his phone and stopped walking.

_-I know this is ridiculous. But I'm just not ready to talk about all this.-_

He went back to his flat and threw himself on the bed.

He didn't want to think about all this, so he was glad when he felt sleep overcome him and let it lull him in.

When he woke up again, his mind wandered off immediately.

_My friends say think of the bad things_

_My friends say think of the fights_

_-All the fights we had about the flat or your behaviour.-_

_And then it should be easier to walk away_

_No more sleepless nights_

_-When I'm thinking about the 'What if's'.-_

_And even though I don't need you_

_-'Cause I don't,... even if I do.-_

_You're clearly the best thing that happened to me_

_-Though I don't want to admit it...-_

_We should be happy ever after, happiness and laughter  
What a natural disaster!_

He smiled at the ridiculousness of their relationship. Little did he know who else thought of their relationship on the other side of town.

_You're far too good for me  
I said you're far too good for me_

_-You are, John. I don't deserve you. I never did.-_

_Need to tell myself I don't care  
Need to tell myself you're not there_

_-Though both things aren't true. I do care about you, John. I never did before you, though...-_

_The way I'm feelin', I just don't care!_

He didn't care what he felt as long as John was alright, but since he wasn't, Sherlock stayed up all night, hoping John would answer.

* * *

**AN:** Prepare for the next chapter, it's gonna be... I don't know. But I hope you'll like it. Let's just say it'll do the rating justice ;)

And I wish you a happy rest of the year :) See you again in 2013 since the world didn't end and you'll all get the rest of the story.

Till then, much love, xoxo

SoDamnSherlocked


	8. Chapter 8 - Faster

**AN: First off: Happy New Year to every single one reading this!**

I hope you had a fun New Year's Eve without accidents with fireworks and whatnot. All the best for 2013!

I might have been too quick with promising to make the rating worth, I'm sorry. I'd this chapter written some time ago and it seemed I've forgotten, just because I wanted to proceed to my favourite chapter ;)

Though this might be one of the longest one, it's not my best.

I apologize in advance for any mistakes, they are entirely my own since I'm dumb when it comes to grammar and stuff, I don't have a beta and this isn't brit-picked. And I love you all for putting up with this story.

And there are some special Thank You's to deliver: awelch, sheholmes, gjsartist and 744 for alerting my story :) And also to Mana Walker, klainelvr and double thanks to sheholmes, 744 and gjsartist for also favouriting. I love every single one of you :))

I hope I haven't missed anyone up until now, but if I did, just somehow shoot me a Sherlock-like "how-can-you-be-so-stupid"-look or just give me the "Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains, it must be so boring"-speech ;) Because I really want to thank every single one for showing me some luvin'.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, blah. Only for fun, blah. Not making money with this, blah. Wish I would though. Seriously, Sherlock belongs to ACD, Steven Moffat & Mark Gatiss, as well as BBC. Lyrics to Faster belong to Tom Higginson (singer, songwriter of the Plain White T's).

So, off we go with chapter 8, the song is Faster by The Plain White T's (The guys who wrote & performed "Hey there, Delilah" ;) )

Sherlock is having a talk with his brother (whether he wants to or not, being in the hospital, he can't doe much, can he?), John gets abducted (Why? You'll see :P) and an important message is delivered...

Have fun reading! :)

* * *

_**Chapter 8 – Faster:**_

As the nurse came in to bring him his breakfast, Sherlock snapped at her he wasn't hungry at all and she should leave because she was boring and annoyed him after only 2 minutes. She ran out crying and slammed the door shut behind her.

_-Well, his behaviour doesn't seem to have changed since he's met John.-_

"Mycroft, I can hear you thinking out there! If you want something, then leave because you're quite annoying." Sherlock sighed as the door opened and Mycroft stepped inside.

"How are you feeling, my dear brother?"

"Like you care.", Sherlock snapped.

"I do. You do remember I told John I worry about you constantly. I didn't lie then."

Sherlock sighed again. "Fine."

"There is something I would like to talk to you about, Sherlock."

"Do I have to listen?"

"Yes, you do." After Sherlock let out an annoyed groan, Mycroft cleared his throat and continued. "Did you realize a certain change in the behaviour of your blogger slash flatmate?"

Sherlock didn't have to think long. John had indeed changed since the incident with Moriarty.

"Yes, he'd been away with his thoughts quite often and since I woke up he's been very distant. Why do you ask?"

"You say you know him so well. Why don't you tell me then what may be not right?"

Sherlock thought about what John had said.

"_I felt like as if I'd lost you. I was crushed, Sherlock... . Mycroft observed me all the time and if he hadn't stopped me, I wouldn't be standing here right now."_

"Mycroft, what happened?"

* * *

John got up from his bed as he woke up, went into the shower and got dressed. He passed one hand through his hair. Still half asleep, he went into the kitchen to make himself some tea as he realized he was out. It wasn't like him, but he started cursing as he rubbed his eyes and got dressed to go do the shopping.

He went into the shop to get his favourite tea and, still out of habit, he took the one Sherlock liked the most as well and went to the check-out.  
He returned home and packed the shopping away as he saw a black car stop in front of his flat which could only indicate one thing.

_-Mycroft. What the hell do you want from me __**now**__?-_

He went downstairs again and as he opened the front door, the car door opened as well and Anthea got out, her look glued to the mobile in her hands.

"What does he want now?"

"Get in, Dr. Watson."

"I'm not going to get any explanation?" He'd known that before, after all it was Mycroft they were talking about, but he could hope at least, couldn't he?

As an answer, Anthea simply looked up from her mobile, smiled at him and looked down again. As John got in, she slid in beside him, shut the door and the car went off.

They seemed to drive forever and John didn't dare to ask any more questions. When they finally stopped, Anthea got out and held the door open for John. She just nodded her head in the direction of a warehouse _-Oh no...- _and John hesitated, but eventually gave in. He was more curious than anything else.

He went inside and walked into a big hall. Nobody was there, he could only see a table with a laptop on it. There was a post-it on the screen with one word. Sherlock.

He opened the laptop and was asked for a password. He typed Sherlock in and the screen went white. Then it showed what seemed to be a word document. It was saved as "To John" and he scrolled up to read it from the beginning.

* * *

"I have realized that you two act differently being with the other, Sherlock. Why do you believe this occurs?"

Sherlock searched in his mind palace for the room he stored everything concerning John in. Everything he said, all the things he said and did were saved in the back of his mind palace, safely stored. He now searched for reactions of John whenever Sherlock had said or done something after the pool incident with Moriarty.

After 2 minutes of silence, Sherlock looked at his brother. "He was scared."

"Yes, that he was. But scared of what?"

"I don't know. How am I supposed to? He doesn't talk to me about that. Maybe he was scared of dying? Many people-"

"Sherlock!" Mycroft's voice grew louder. "He was a soldier. He himself chose to be one. Do you really believe he would've chosen this path in life if he was scared of dying? Do you think he would've started solving these cases with you if he didn't want to die?"

Mycroft had a point. After all, he'd told John it was going to be dangerous, but he still wanted to go along. But what was it then?

* * *

John breathed in deeply and out again before he started to read the typed out document.

"Dear John,

I have realized that you act differently since the meeting with Moriarty, especially around my dear brother. You've been distant, your mind wandered off quite often. And for a while I wondered why it was like that.

Then I realized another thing: You have been very protective of your flatmate. I have asked myself why and after looking after the both of you for a very long time and seeing the differences in your acting towards Sherlock back then and now... I have come to the conclusion that you probably have feelings towards my little brother that go deeper than those of a simple friendship."

John let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding until then.

_-How the hell did he...? Oh.- _He slapped himself. Of course. _-We're talking about Mycroft Holmes. __**Mycroft fucking Holmes**__.__ Of course he knew all that. But did that mean that...?-_

He stopped himself in the thought to go on reading before he made himself go crazy over what might be.

"Do not worry, until now he does not know about your feelings towards him." John breathed out slowly and audibly. "But I am certain of the fact that your strange behaviour will make sure he will find out all by himself soon enough." -_Dear God, no!-_

"The reason I am not able to address this to you in person is because I am visiting my dear brother in the hospital. I am sure he will not be very delighted to see me, but after you ran off, I wanted to make sure he was alright.

I appreciate everything you have done for my little brother and all the things you will do for him in the future. This message will be destroyed to make it unreadable for everyone else but you.

I just want you to go on taking care of Sherlock. You are the first person he has let this close and you know what to expect if you take advantage of this, do you not, Dr. Watson?"

_-Yep, better not fuck with either one of the Holmes Brothers.-_

"I do trust you, but rest assured that I will go on supervising you both. I do really hope for the both of you that things will work out alright. You both deserve it.

PS: Do **not **tell anybody I wrote this!

I will make sure to see you again, John.

Thank you for making my brother happier and more like you.

Signed, Mycroft Holmes"

John took some deep breaths before he heard a sizzling sound and the screen went completely black. He stood up and turned around, getting back to the car where Anthea waited for him, seemingly not having moved an inch since he'd gone inside. She looked up at him shortly and smiled before turning her attention back to the mobile in her hands, her fingers flying over the buttons. John sighed and got in and Anthea slid in beside him, the car took off and John stared out of the window. The whole drive towards John's flat went by quickly and silently.

* * *

"Think, Sherlock!"

"What do you believe I'm doing?" Sherlock had started shouting at his brother who stayed motionless in his chair.

_-Okay. So it wasn't because he was afraid of dying. What am I missing?-_

Since he was still in his hospital bed, Sherlock simply got into his thinking position to find out why John acted so differently.

_-Sherlock, You know what's wrong with me. You just don't consider this possibility.-_

_-Not considering? What am I not considering, John?-_

_-Think of the one thing you're no expert in.-_ Sherlock heard him smile in his head.

"Don't tell me you're saying this has something to do with emotions, Mycroft."

His brother stayed silent, so Sherlock took this as a yes.

"Are you saying what I believe you're saying?"  
"Well, what do you believe I am saying then, dear brother?"

He almost choked upon the words, but they had to get out. He needed the confirmation he was right.

"Are you trying to imply that John thinks of me as more than just a flatmate and a friend?"  
This time, Mycroft bothered to answer soundly.

"That is indeed what I have found out and I am sure this is why his behaviour has changed so much. He cares for you deeply, Sherlock. And I am certain it's not because he wants to be your friend. He is hoping for more. He always has, even when he married Mary. He did love her, but he could never let go of you which is why he is so confused right now. Believe me, Sherlock. John loves you beyond compare. He will need some time to process all of this but he has never stopped loving you and I believe he never will."

Sherlock looked at him, shock on his face as he stood up and pulled the tubes out.

"What do you believe you are doing?"

"I need to see John since he doesn't answer to my-" He checked his phone. "47 messages. So would you please just give me his address as I suppose he doesn't live at 221b anymore."

"That is indeed correct. Although he only moved a few streets."

Mycroft gave Sherlock the address after 5 minutes of debating with his brother and Sherlock got dressed and left Mycroft behind, sitting in the chair.

* * *

As he stood in front of the door of John's apartment, his heart was racing.

_-So this is what it feels like. Love...-_

He was incredibly excited. It wasn't really like going on the hunt for some murderer, chasing him down in the alleys of London. It was new, it was different, but still... it felt so good.

At the same time, Sherlock was scared. Scared of being rejected for the first time while dealing with such strong emotions. Scared of losing John because he doesn't reciprocate his feelings.

That was a lot to deal with, but being the person he was, Sherlock put everything in the back of his mind palace. He first had to talk to John before worrying.

So he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

He was still thinking about what to say as he heard his name behind him called out by a familiar voice. He turned around and saw John getting out of a black car.

_-Mycroft. Do you __**always**__ have to put your nose in other people's business?_

"John." His voice was quiet and he immediately looked down on the ground.

"Sherlock..." John was whispering as he came to stand in front of Sherlock. "What are you doing here? You aren't supposed to leave the hospital yet!"

"I know." He still didn't look at John. "I just needed to talk to you since you haven't answered one of my stack of messages. And I was scared you wouldn't even come and visit me anymore." John could hear the sadness and insecurity in Sherlock's voice.

_-But Sherlock doesn't do emotions. I hope he's alright under the circumstances. But maybe his brain does have some difficulties after those 8 years.-_

"Sherlock, I..." For the first time in this conversation, he looked at John as he said his name. "I told you I was... confused."  
"I know. And I talked to Mycroft. He told me."

"_What? What did he tell him?"_

"What... what did he tell you?" His eyes became wide, but Sherlock didn't seem to notice, being too focused on what he himself had to say so urgently.

"He told me I was missing something concerning your change in behaviour. And then you told me it had something to do with the one thing I'm not an expert in which would be emotions.-"  
"Wait. **I** told you that?"

"Well, I heard you in my head."

"Okay, go on."

_-That does sound weird, but it's not as if this hasn't happened to me. But I'm not gonna tell him that. He knows enough already.-_

"Okay, so there's something I need to get off my chest and I want you to listen to me without interrupting. Do you understand?"

_-Here we go. What is it now?- _Except for that thought, John only managed to nod slowly.

Sherlock took another deep breath before stepping closer to John, getting into his personal space. John held his gaze but also his breath as Sherlock came close, **too close** and he started blushing.

"Sherlock, what-"

He was cut off as Sherlock put his hand on the side of his face.

_I'm just as nervous as you_

"Okay, this is just as nerve wrecking for me as it is for you, but please let me just do this, okay?"

John simply nodded, not being able to do anything else as he stared into Sherlock's eyes.

_Last night I took one look at you  
And I got this feeling you're the right one_

"Believe me, I'd never thought it'd come to this, especially with me being... well, me. But you, John, you... changed me into something... someone better. You are the only person that has stayed by my side for so long. You are the only one who has never doubted me, seriously insulted me and meaning it. You've never called me a freak, John and I feel you are something special, I know you are the right person in my life."

John just kept staring, trying to catch his breath.

_Now you don't know what to do_

"You run away from me and I know you're confused and maybe scared, but I needed to see you, John, to tell you all of this and more."

_Time ticks away and you got to choose  
You know which feeling is the right one_

"We will not be here forever, so let's just make the most of the time we have, John. You'll know what to do, I trust you."

_This is what it looks like_

"This is me, John. And I know you like me the way I am and I appreciate every single thing you do and everything you are."

_This is what it feels like_

"And I'm going to say what I need to say, because I realized I need to deal with those **feelings**."

And Sherlock took John's hand and lay it on John's heart, covered by his own hand.

_And this is your heart beating faster,  
Faster_

"And this is your heart beating faster, for me, John." His voice was barely just a whisper.

Meanwhile, John hadn't been able to hold his gaze on Sherlock any longer, so he looked on the ground.

_I'll lose my voice  
If you won't make a choice_

"You just have to tell me what it is that you want, John. Because I won't be doing anything you don't like. Not anymore."

This made John look up again, a small smile playing around his lips.

_I'll lose my head  
If you go to him again_

"I want you to talk to me, John. Not Mycroft or Lestrade or whoever. I want you to be able to tell me everything that is going on in that little head of yours." He raised his free hand and tipped the forefinger against John's forehead.

_I'll lose my mind  
If you won't take me back tonight_

"John, I've missed you so much and I'd like to be around you all the time and catch up on what we've missed out. I want us to live together, to be together. I'd go mad without you. I mean... I know I kind of am already, but... you know what I mean."

_I hope I'm not pressuring you  
That's the last thing I'd ever want to do_

"I don't want you to feel pressured into something you don't want. So I only want you to do what you want and whenever you're ready. You are too important to me, John. I don't want to lose you. You have waited 8 long years for me to come back, I think it'd be just fair for me to wait as well."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "I love you John, with all that I am and all that I have."

And as if this was his cue, John got to his tiptoes, took Sherlock's free hand to Sherlock's chest, covering it with his own and pressing their lips together.

_-And this is your heart beating faster for me.-_

* * *

**AN:** And here we are, I love the ending of this chapter, but now really, prepare for the next one. I'm sure you know what will go on, but...

Well, we all know how much we want it ;) At least I did.

See you next weekend, much love

SoDamnSherlocked, aka Nina xoxo


	9. Chapter 9 - Lying to Yourself

**AN: **So, here it is, the chapter you've been waiting for (I've been waiting for as well ;) ). This and the chapter where Sherlock 'died' (That was mean, wasn't it?) are the main reasons this story is rated M :)

So, you've been warned. This is just pure Johnlock right here. If you want to go on reading this story, but are not the type for manxman action, you can easily skip this chapter and wait for next weekend when I'll post chapter 10. There isn't much plot here, so it won't matter if you skip this one.

I have one other person to thank before we go on. So thank you so much, Purple Waterlilies for favouriting my story :) You make me smile by doing that.

Chapter 9 and the song is Example's "Lying to yourself".

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, never have, never will :( Lyrics belong to Elliot Gleave aka Example, Sherlock belongs to Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss, BBC & Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Enough blabla, on with the story. Have fun reading :) (Or skipping, whatever you prefer :P)

**_Chapter 9 – Lying to yourself:_**

They let go of each other's hand and John tangled his hands in Sherlock's _-so curly, so soft, so __**Sherlock-y**__-_ hair. Sherlock put his hands lightly on John's waist, unsure of what to do.

John pulled back slightly, looking into Sherlock's eyes who pouted slightly, but started smiling again when he saw the loving look in John's eyes.

"I don't want to pressure you into-"

He was cut off again by John's lips on his own and by John's tongue _-How did he learn to do that?- _flicking over his upper lip, seeking entrance. Sherlock let him in, giving John what he wanted and going to explore John's mouth on his part, just slightly shy.

John pulled back again after a while, bringing his mouth to Sherlock's ear. "I'm not going to let you catch a cold, so I'm gonna get this door open and undress you then." Sherlock heard the smile in his voice and his eyes flickered shut as John said that before he smashed his lips again on John's.

John reacted by grabbing Sherlock and pinning him against the door, holding him with one arm and fiddling for the keys with the other hand. While kissing Sherlock as if his life depended on it _-which was very likely-_ he tried to get the key to fit into the lock.

They stumbled backwards as the door flung open, steadying each other, but never letting go. John put the key back in his pocket, kicking the front door closed with his foot as he pushed Sherlock backwards into the bedroom.

John slowly opened the buttons of Sherlock's "purple shirt of sex" as he liked to call it and as it fell down, John traced the lines of Sherlock's muscles, not stopping exploring his love's mouth.

"Sherlock... love... shirt..." John was hardly able to speak his thoughts as Sherlock pulled the jumper over John's head, placing kisses on the revealed flesh. He felt Sherlock smile against his chest as the room was filled with a hardly audible "I know" as an answer.

John let his head fall back before he pulled Sherlock to his lips again. "I. Love. You. So. Much. Sherlock." He barely managed for those words to leave his mouth in between kisses. Although Sherlock was inexperienced with everything concerning feelings and therefore nervous and insecure, John felt Sherlock getting harder as he pressed his body against him.

John felt love, happiness, anxiety, lust, arousal and so much more he couldn't identify flood through his body. He thought of it, but little did he know that Sherlock felt exactly the same. It was weird for him since most of those feelings were completely new to him. But Sherlock felt safe in the arms of his blogger, his flatmate, his friend, best friend even, his doctor, **his John, simply his**.

As they broke apart a few centimeters to gasp for some oxygen, John looked at Sherlock, cupping his face with both hands. "I'm never **ever** going to leave you, Sherlock. I promise." Sherlock looked at him, scanning his face for anything that doesn't belong there, but all he could find was affection, sincerity and love. Taking John's hands off his cheeks, Sherlock stumbled back towards John's bed, pulling him on top as Sherlock lay down. As he tried to kiss him, John turned his face, so Sherlock's lips landed on his cheek. Sherlock started pouting, but John bent down, so his lips were next to Sherlock's ear as he whispered:"I want you, Sherlock. I want you inside of me. Right now."

Sherlock started blushing and felt John press against him as he fiddled with the button of John's jeans. "Let me help you with that." John whispered before he let Sherlock explore his mouth with that talented tongue of his. "You... know... I've... never... done... this... ." "Do you trust me, Sherlock?" John took his face in his hands once again, looking him in the eyes. Sherlock didn't answer, instead he grabbed John and kissed him fiercely, but quickly turned passionate.

John opened the button of his jeans and undid the zipper before he stood up, pulling Sherlock with him, to step out of it. Sherlock pulled John closer, winding his arms around him, while John undid the belt of Sherlock's trousers and yanked them down, revealing the fitting boxer shorts to the purple shirt of sex. As soon as John touched the material, he pulled back to get a better glance at -_this goddamn sexy-_ underwear and Sherlock smiled as he took John's pulse.

_-Way too fast.-_ He took his own and realized their hearts were beating in unison.

"Sherlock?" It was only a breathed whisper and Sherlock just hummed a short response while he covered John's chest and stomach with kisses. "You own matching boxer shorts?" John still couldn't make proper noises except for moaning and breathing. "Of course." _-He uses this low voice. It almost sounds like a purr coming from him and...-_ John wasn't even able to finish his thought as Sherlock's voice alone made him harder as he spoke on. "I know how much you love my purple shirt, so I wanted to see your reaction to my 'purple boxer shorts of sex'."

John was so aroused only by Sherlock's voice that he yanked down both their boxer shorts and pushed Sherlock on his bed, straddling his hips. "Are you sure you wanna do this? Because if you are, we're going to do it all and I'm never **ever **gonna let you go." John heard the familiar smirk in Sherlock's voice and John made his decision by lowering his head to Sherlock's neck. He licked, sucked and bit to make Sherlock moan and marked him. "You're mine now." "Always. And I wouldn't wanna have it any other way." Sherlock cupped John's face, kissing him passionately before breaking for some air and then moving towards his neck to find that one spot _-There it is.-_ which would make John go crazy. John didn't even try to get his thoughts out in the open. His mind was fuzzy and Sherlock working that spot shut his mind off completely, making him only capable of moaning. "And now you're mine." There it was again. The low purr that should be illegal in 7 different ways. _-Is it possible to have an orgasm by only listening to that pure sex?- _

"Though I would love to experiment with you on that..." Sherlock was still able to form coherent sentences and deducing what John thought about "...I think I still have to fuck you senseless." Sherlock reached out for John's drawer, taking out a bottle of lube and poured some into his hands before pushing one of his fingers into John, earning another moan from the shorter man.

"God, Sherlock!" "I love it when you moan my name. And I'm gonna make you scream it." Sherlock had lost all the fear and shyness and John got even harder. Sherlock then added a second finger, making John moan again, eyes shut and his head falling backwards. As he added the third finger, John started begging. "I need you to fuck me, Sherlock. **Right now**."

Sherlock happily obliged and poured some more lube into his hands, slowly stroking his cock a few times before taking John on top of him, pushing at his entrance. John slowly sat down on top of Sherlock, waiting for the burn to ease a little and then he started riding Sherlock. Carefully, at first, but John couldn't wait much longer for release, so he moved his hips quicker as Sherlock thrusted into him, hitting his prostate over and over again. The only noises anyone could've heard were the moans and gasps filling the room.

Sherlock knew John was close and he took his hands from John's hips, stroking him slowly.

"Come for me, John. Do it!" Sherlock used his purry voice again and it made John cum all over Sherlock's hands and stomach. He collapsed on top of his love and the sight of John sent Sherlock over the edge and he came inside John, shouting his name.

Both panting heavily, they laid on their backs with John's head on Sherlock's chest. "That... amazing..." Sherlock smiled as he hummed an answer, placing a kiss on John's hair. "I love you." John looked up as Sherlock looked down at him, placing his lips on Sherlock's and kissing lazily, before settling into the previous position as he whispered "I love you too, Sherlock Holmes, more than anything in the whole world with all that I am and all that I have." Both smiled and Sherlock watched John fall asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat before sleep won him over as well.

* * *

As the morning light poked its way through the curtains, it fell on John's face, waking him up.

_-Wow, that was a hell of a dream. But... nope, still not gay. Wait- What?-_

He just then realized that he was covered in a blanket, completely naked and as he touched the sheets around him, he felt warmth.

_-Why the hell am I naked? Did I move around that much to make the bed so warm?-_

"Good morning, sleepy head." There it was again. This purry voice that wouldn't leave his thoughts. John sat up and looked at Sherlock, dressed in his beloved white sheet. He looked like a Greek god. It took John's breath away and Sherlock realized it although John had tried to hide it.

"Good morning." Sherlock looked at him, standing in the doorframe, his back leant against the wall.

"Why are you here in my flat?" John looked puzzled and Sherlock couldn't help but smile. "Why are you smiling and seriously, why the hell am I naked below this blanket?" Sherlock's smile turned into laughter. "Do you even remember anything concerning last night? I mean, it was unforgettable but I wouldn't be able to recall the events if I were in your position." Sherlock had stopped laughing, slowly walking towards the bed, placing one knee on the mattress. He leaned over John, his breath tickling John's face before he closed the distance between them, making John gasp.

"So it **was** real?" Instead of answering, Sherlock just smiled at John, kissing him once again, firmly.

"I thought I'd dreamt it, believing it had been too good to be true." Sherlock smiled against John's lips. "What have you been up to before I woke up?"

Sherlock smiled at him proudly before answering. "I made breakfast... for the both of us."  
John looked surprised. "You made breakfast?" Sherlock gave a short nod. "And you are actually going to eat something?" "For you, I will." John beamed at Sherlock, tugging at his sheet to pull him down for another sloppy kiss. "Thank you." He gave Sherlock another peck on the lips before he got out of bed to take a shower. And Sherlock just spoke his mind as John went to the bathroom.

"You do have a nice arse, Dr. Watson." John blushed, turned around and went to a smirking Sherlock to get on his tiptoes and place another kiss on his lips. Sherlock wrapped him in his sheet and deepened the kiss.

"Why don't you let me take a shower, we have breakfast in bed and then we'll go out?" Sherlock nuzzled at John's shoulder and just hummed a short response before kissing him again and then unwrapping John. As he went into the shower, Sherlock got dressed and picked up the breakfast from the kitchen table to bring it to their bedroom.

He jumped onto the bed and sprawled himself across it, impatiently waiting for John to come back. As he emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed, Sherlock was determined to change this after breakfast. "No, Sherlock." was all John said before settling down to eat, smiling.

* * *

They were walking through the streets of London, John enjoying the sun, Sherlock appreciating it. Both were silent as they walked beside the other as Sherlock broke the silence.

"Is everything alright, John?"

Lost in thoughts, John didn't even catch what Sherlock had said before he felt a hand placed firmly on his shoulder. "What?"

"John, something is not right. Would you mind telling me what it is?"

For a second, John didn't know what to say. _-And now what, John?-_ "It's... nothing." he mumbled before picking up his pace.

"John, you haven't said a word since our breakfast and you seem lost in thoughts all the time. Just tell me what is going on in that little head of yours."

He came to a halt in front of John and put one hand on his shoulder and the other below John's chin to force him to look him in the eyes. _-Tell me, John. What is wrong?-_ "Do you regret it?"

John looked at him and immediately answered. "No! No, Sherlock." He placed a kiss on _-that beautiful_ cupid's bow before pulling back to look at him. "It really is nothing."

"Then how come I don't believe you, John?" It didn't sound accusing, it sounded worried and scared. "John, I love you and you should tell me when there's something wrong. I know I may not be good with emotions of all sorts, but I'm willing to learn from you... for you." He cupped John's face with both hands, giving him a look that carried worry but John felt as if he was able to look into his soul in that exact moment. He sighed.

"I guess... I think I'm just tired... . Not very surprising after the past night, right?" A sad smile made his way onto his lips before it was replaced by another pair of soft lips.

"It's okay. I was just concerned."

"Don't be. Except for the lack of sleep, I'm fine."

"You'd tell me if it were otherwise, wouldn't you?"

"Of course." And then John placed another quick peck on Sherlock's lips before wanting to drag him home as Sherlock's phone rang.

"What is it now, Mycroft? Shall I help you with your diet?" Sherlock snapped and John couldn't help but smile.

"What, now?" He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

A car pulled up beside them and Sherlock hung up angrily before turning to face John again.

"Mycroft wants to see me, so I'm gonna have to leave you alone although I don't want to." He sounded sad and John hugged him tight before pulling back to yank him down for a kiss.

"Text me when you're done." With another kiss as a confirmation, Sherlock pulled away and slid into the backseat of the car beside 'Anthea'.

The car drove off and John looked after it before turning around to walk back to his flat.

He had taken two steps before he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

I miss you – SH xx

He smiled all the way to his home although, as realization dawned on him, his lie made his stomach twist and the smile had faded as he arrived at his home.

_-This isn't real. I know it and I didn't tell him. How could I? How could I lie to him like that?-_

He fell down on the bed they'd shared the night before and let his mind be lulled in by those thoughts that made his whole body ache with guilt.

_I thought it was curtains for us, all seemed so certain_,

_-He wasn't here anymore. To me, he was gone...-_

_You can say that the words in my version the things are the reason you're hurtin',_

_-I know you're hurting. You were right that something's wrong and I lied.-_

_I thought it was curtains for us, all seemed so certain,_

_And I know that the reason I lied was a crime and it's kinda disturbin'._

_-I lied for my own sake. I don't want to lose you, Sherlock.-_

_And I'm happy to admit that I lied_

_-Yeah, John. You lied and you're happy about it, because you get to keep Sherlock.-_

_And I'll admit that I ruined your life_

_-You saved me, Sherlock. But I didn't. I interfered...-_

_You can never admit if you tried  
And you're so wrong  
And you're so wrong_

_-Yes, John. You're wrong by wanting to keep Sherlock to yourself. It's just __**wrong**__.-_

_And til' you stop lying to yourself  
I'll never stop lying to you _

_-I'll always lie to you Sherlock, because I always lied to myself.-_

_And until I start crying to myself  
I'll never cry in front of you_

Tears started streaming down his face. _-No, Sherlock. You won't ever see me cry.-_

_I'll find the tallest giants  
And break the rules of science_

_-I'll do anything for you, Sherlock...-_

_But I'll never stop lying to you  
And I've never said a word so true_

_-But I can't tell you the truth, however much I want to.-_

He took out his phone to type a text, pressed the send button before throwing it away and trying to fall into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry, just wanted to let you know this was my first time writing smut, so I apologize if it's a bit... weird or crappy. This is overall also my first fanfic, so I apologize for weirdness and crappyness.

I don't have a beta and this isn't brit-picked either, so any mistakes, crappyness & weirdness are my own fault.

But thank you anyways for reading :)

Much love, xoxo

SoDamnSherlocked


	10. Chapter 10 - I don't want to go

**AN: **I'd wanted to upload this one yesterday, but I got so deeply sucked into sports with Handball championship, Snooker & the Australian Open, I simply forgot what day we had. I'm so sorry :(

Anyways, if you skipped the past chapter, you haven't really missed much, except for my first attempt at writing smut :D

Before we go on with chapter #10, I'd like to do my weekly thank you's :) This time, they go to Non Sound Rocks for favouriting, Joyfull Scroll for alerting my story & Phoenix Autumn for literally doing everything ;) Thank you all so much, all this makes me incredibly happy :))

Here we go with chapter 10 (I'm pumped, yeayeah), the song is Avalon's "I don't want to go". This is a shorter one, but one important for the plot.

Sherlock and John have a talk & John tries to convince Sherlock that all of this wasn't real. How will he react?

* * *

_**Chapter 10 – I don't want to go:**_

John awoke slowly. He was drained from the past day and the aftermath as he realized that Sherlock, well, at least **this** Sherlock, didn't belong here. He'd been selfish and he felt guilty. So he got up to take a shower, trying to clear his head.

As he got dressed, he heard his phone buzz on the bedside table and reached for it to see a new message from Sherlock. His heart clenched as he read it.

Are you alright? Of course we can meet. I've missed you and I still do – SH xx

He got ready and he felt awful knowing he'd lied to Sherlock, the man he loved so much it hurt.

But he was going to tell him the truth, there would be no turning back now. He'd been a soldier, for God's sake! How difficult can it be then to just tell him the truth?

His heart pounded in his chest as he went out the door and made his was to the agreed place to meet.

It took all the courage he could find in his body to not back down and turn around to run home again.

_-It's going to be fine, it's going to be just fine. We've managed worse things.-_

He kept talking to himself in his head and so, he didn't even apologize like he usually did whenever he ran into someone because he wasn't looking. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he almost got run over by a car as he felt someone yank him back by his nape before the car hit him.

As John looked up surprised, he was immediately hugged by a much taller man and he would've recognized those black curls anywhere. He closed his eyes, inhaled the familiar scent and wound his arms around the slender man he loved so much.

"I won't let the world take you away from me, especially not like that and not this soon." He placed a kiss on John's forehead before tilting his head upwards to properly snog him. Before Sherlock was even able to think of snogging him senseless, John pulled back, gasping for air.

Both panting heavily, John said "Thank you for saving me. Again."

"Pure selfishness." Sherlock smiled as he rested their foreheads together. "I'd be lost without my blogger." He chuckled, then added "I'd be lost without you, your tea, your often failing attempts at feeding me, your succeeding advices on how to make me a better person, your love. I'd simply be lost without-" John wouldn't let Sherlock finish as he was planning on snogging him senseless and risk getting arrested for their behaviour.

_-How am I supposed to tell him why this can't be? Especially when he says such things and means them...-_

Sherlock had just saved his life again. Could John really be that selfish when it came to the man he loved more than anything in the whole world? As he'd decided he couldn't, he pulled back and took Sherlock's hand between his.

"Could we please go for a walk?" He looked unsure.

Sherlock merely nodded. He knew something was off, but he was sure John would tell him soon enough. He wouldn't push it because he could see John wasn't ready to tell him yet.

They walked a while beside the other, John still clutching Sherlock's hand, but neither of them said anything. John still didn't know how to say what he wanted to say, and Sherlock patiently waiting for John to give the answer to the question he didn't dare asking.

John rummaged through his brain to find words acceptable for this situation and he didn't realize that Sherlock led him to the park he'd gone to very often after having had a row with Sherlock.

He smiled up at him. It was a forced smile as his mind was blocking his emotions by being in overdrive, but it was genuine. Sherlock beamed at John and let him give him a quick peck on the lips. They went on walking before John had somehow managed to sort his thoughts and turned to Sherlock while coming to a full stop. Sherlock looked at him, puzzled and John took the courage to break the silence.

"Sherlock..." John sat down on the nearest bench in the park.

"Hmm?"

"There's something I need to tell you."

"What is it, John?" He sat down next to him. Sherlock could see the worried look on his face.

"This isn't real, Sherlock."  
"What do you mean? We are real, this... what we have is real. Or don't you want it to be like this?" He sounded unsure and looked at John with sad eyes.

"Of course, there's nothing I'd rather do than love you and be with you for the rest of my life, but this isn't right. It's not real, Sherlock. You don't belong here." John took his hand, lifted it up to his lips and placed a kiss on the palm.

"I still don't understand-"  
"This is not real, all of this is just in your mind."

"But how...-"

"I know this might seem a bit... confusing." John still didn't really know how to tell Sherlock. "This was all just a dream. A coma-induced dream. You are in a coma and this is all in your head."

Sherlock looked at him as if he'd just grown a second head.

John tried to gather his thoughts once again before -who would've thought that would ever happen?- trying to explain something to Sherlock.

"Okay." He sighed. "The truth is your body is in the hospital and all of this is just in your head. You are still in a coma, Sherlock. What happened between us is not real, as much as I'd like it to be..."

"How do you know?"

"This isn't you, Sherlock. You just wished it was. People calling you a freak led to this particular situation made up in your head. Sometimes you just want to be more like everybody else without losing your ability to deduce every single one of them just by taking a quick look. You fled here where you had both: your brains and your normality."He let his head hang down, a few tears escaping his eyes, falling down on the floor. Sherlock raised his free hand to John's face, wiping away the tears and kissing his cheeks.

"Shh, it's okay." John let go of Sherlock's hand, his own falling limp to his sides as Sherlock wound his arms around his John. A few sobs escaped John's throat before he managed to pull himself together.

"I'm fine, Sherlock... really... It's just... I... I think... I should leave you alone now to process everything and... I believe... I need some time by myself as well... ." He saw Sherlock fall apart a little as he stood up. "I'm just gonna... I'll... better go... ." So he turned around and walked away, leaving Sherlock behind, face fallen, arms hanging limp at his sides. He called after John but to no avail, so he stood up and walked. He didn't know where to go, he just walked through the streets of London, no destination in his mind, instead occupying it by thinking about what John had said as the tears he'd kept at bay the whole time started flowing down his cheeks.

_You changed my world  
When You came to me_

_-Do you remember, John? When you met me and you were amazed by my deductions? You turned my world upside down.-_

_You drove a passion  
In my soul down deep_

_-A soul I never really believed I had.- _A crooked smile stole across his face.

_I don't want to go somewhere  
If I know that You're not there_

_-I want to stay here with you, John.-_

_'Cause I know that me without You is a lie_

_-I can't go without you. I can't function properly, John.-_

_And I don't want to walk that road  
Be a million miles from home_

_-We've been too far apart for that long a time. I can't bear this again.-_

_'Cause my heart needs to be where You are  
So I don't want to go  
-A heart that you showed me I have... Don't let me leave it behind, John. Please...-_

His beeping phone ripped him out of his thoughts, followed by an annoyed moan.

'Where do you plan on going?Get in the car, it'll take you someplace safe where you can rest whether you want to or not. - M.'

A black car pulled up next to him, the back door opened, revealing a typing 'Anthea' in the back seat. Sherlock slid in beside her and as soon as he closed the door, the car took off.

* * *

**AN: **Short, I promise ;)

This story is already finished, we've got some more chapters to go and I hope you liked it so far.

Thank you for reading, the next chapter will be up next weekend.

Love, xoxo


	11. Chapter 11 - Something Missing

**AN:** So, it's weekend and though I had to work today, I managed to upload it for you before sunday. I'm quite surprised, but well... :)

Hope you liked it so far and continue to do so. I'm currently writing some more stories, 2 at the moment. Hope I'll be able to share my next idea, still needs some finishing touches.

I realized terrified that I missed to thank Joyfull Scroll for alerting. I'm terribly, terribly sorry :( I hope you don't mind my doing that now. Thank you so much, I really appreciate everything!

Before we go on: **Disclaimer:** No, I don't own _Sherlock_ because if I did, there would be much more going on between out two favourite guys on TV ;)

This is chapter 11 and the song is "Something Missing" by one of my favourite Artists Jensen Reed Feat. The Mowgli's.

I found him on twitter and facebook, can't even remember how, but I immediately liked his music. Give him some love, he deserves it ;)

You can listen to his music on his homepage jensenreeddotcom. Just exchange the word with the real dot and listen.

Anywho, this chapter is for real! John worrying about poor, unconscious Sherlock and talking to Mycroft. Enjoy ;)

* * *

_**Chapter 11 – Something Missing:**_

As the door opened, John shot up, his eyes darting around the room. A nurse stepped in and went to check on Sherlock who was still lying in his bed, not reacting in any way. After the nurse had left the room again, John heard a pair of footsteps coming towards him. Although they were in a hospital, John was always in his military mode, permanently aware of what was going on around him. The door opened again and in walked Dr. Morento, mildly saying "Good morning, Dr. Watson.", before jumping into doctor mode.

John couldn't suppress a yawn, before somehow vocalizing a coherent answer and rubbing his hands over his face and running them shortly through his hair.

"Has his condition changed in any way, doctor?" He had been way too tired to check Sherlock's chart for himself. And since having met Mycroft, John was sure the doctor knew better than lying to him.

"To be honest, unfortunately it hasn't, Dr. Watson. And to tell you the whole truth, which you as a doctor should be able to see, the chances of Mr. Holmes' awakening are very slim. I'm afraid he won't ever wake up again." He narrowed his head in an apologetic manner, but fairly, John didn't care the slightest.

John looked at him with tired eyes from a lack of sleep put on him because the chair was just so damn uncomfortable. Nonetheless, the look in his eyes was filled with anger and certainty that made the doctor flinch a little. He turned on his heel and left the room to John who now took Sherlock's hand in his.

_-This is Sherlock Bloody Holmes we're talking about here. If anyone would wake up from a coma on a hopeless case, it'd be him.-_

"I'm gonna be right back, Sherlock." He stood up, gave his hand a short squeeze and kissed him on the forehead before letting go. He quickly went out of the room in search for a toilet. As he came back, he stood in front of the door, taking one last deep breath before turning the knob and walking inside, talking. "I'm back, Sherlock. Told you I wouldn't need long, before-" As he looked around, he dropped the coffee he'd gotten and stumbled backwards out of the door, yelling "SHERLOCK!" while running down the hallway to find out why this room was so _-goddamn empty-_ now.

* * *

Mycroft stepped out of the car, umbrella in his hand, 'Anthea' right behind him, typing away motionless on her blackberry. As he strode through the hallways of the hospital, Mycroft didn't even chance the look on his face one. He stayed motionless as well as Anthea while knowing his way to Sherlock's room. He was about to round the corner of the hallway to said supposed-to-be-occupied space within walls as he collided with a smaller figure who was running into his and then bumped to the floor. Although he must have been in pain as the shorter person had slammed his shoulder into Mycroft's collarbone, he didn't even flinch. Anthea stopped dead in her steps, looked up shortly before retuning to typing away on her phone. As he took a closer look at the figure in front of him, seated on the floor against his will, he recognized the face.

"Dr. Watson. I assume you do not have trouble seeing clearly, so I hope you do not mind me asking how you have missed my presence in your very way."

Trying to catch his breath, John gathered his thoughts and stood up.

"I... toilet... Sherlock... gone..." Those were the only words he managed to get out, still out of breath.

"If I am correct about what you are trying to imply, you were away for some time to empty your bladder and as you returned, Sherlock had not been in his room anymore. Is that what you were trying to tell me, Dr. Watson?"

John was only able to nod before panic set in again and he hurried down the hall past Mycroft.

"Anthea? Would you please find out about the current status of my dear brother?"

She didn't even answer before walking after John, leaving Mycroft behind who took out his phone.

* * *

As John arrived at the nurses desk, he was completely out of breath, eyes red from crying.

"Where is he?"

"Where is who?"

"Where is Sherlock Holmes?"

"Oh, he was taken to undergo some tests." He audibly let out the breath he was holding as relief flooded through him.  
"And why didn't anybody tell me about that? I almost had a heart attack because he'd been gone! Then you would've had to deal with me more!" John wasn't sad anymore, his blood now boiled with anger.

"Because we give those informations only to relatives and you are in no way related to Mr. Holmes." The voice of the nurce was calm but strong.

John's heart sank to his stomach.

_-He could have died and I wouldn't even have known... .-_

"Where is he? Can I see him?"

"He will be back in his room very soon, Dr. Watson. Why don't you wait for him there?" Her voice had gone rather quiet and he obeyed. What else could he do without knowing where Sherlock was? He turned around and went back to Sherlock's room. He calmed down immediately as he saw that the bed and its temporary occupant were where they belonged right now. John was tired, so he sat down, took Sherlock's hand in his and soon after, he fell asleep with his head on Sherlock's lap, never letting go of his hand.

* * *

John startled awake as he heard the door open the next morning. It was a nurse, just checking in on Sherlock and she left about half a minute later. John took the chart in his hands and inspected it.

_-No changes at all... .- _He put it back to where it belonged, sat back down and took Sherlock's hand again. _-Sherlock, please. Come back to me! I need you, just come back here.-_ Tears found their way down and John immediately wiped them away. He needed to be strong for Sherlock.

_-I can't bear the thought of losing you. I want you back here with me, even with all the mess you make while experimenting and all the insults you throw at everyone around you, especially at Anderson.- _A small, sad chuckle escaped his throat.

"Come on, Sherlock. Where would we all be without you, seriously?"

He heard the door open and turned around, immediately letting go of Sherlock's hand as he saw Mycroft step in, shutting the door in Anthea's face.

"What do the doctors say, Mycroft?" He knew of course that Sherlock's vitals weren't good at all, he simply hoped that Mycroft would tell him otherwise, so he could hope.

"His condition hasn't changed, Dr. Watson. I know you read his chart every time a nurse or a doctor has picked it up, so you should know best." Of course he did, but at this point, he just didn't want to know best. He got up and walked towards Mycroft.

"Goddamit, Mycroft! **DO SOMETHING FOR GOD'S SAKE**!" It usually wasn't in John to yell, especially not at Mycroft, but he couldn't help himself. This was Sherlock's life they were talking about here! And John's was totally connected. If Sherlock were to die, John would die with him.

John sank to his knees at the thought and as his voice cracked, the next words came as a hoarse whisper. "He's your brother... ."

"I know." His mask fell right then and there. "And I wish I was able to do anything to assure the well-being of my dear brother, but in this matter it is not important if I am the government. There are certain things in life that are not even in my power to control, John."

John buried his face in his hands, silently sobbing.

_-Why? Why him? Why us? Just why?...-_

"I just want him back, Mycroft. Is it really too much to ask? 'Cause I don't think so. The world hasn't been good to Sherlock and you know it. So why can't he have this one miracle, Mycroft? Just this once..." He wondered how the hell he'd even gotten those words out without starting to cry, but as soon as the thought had crossed his mind the tears found their way down his cheeks again and he hid his face behind his hands.

"You should go home and take a shower, Dr. Watson. You don't look very well."

"What do you expect?" John's head shot up so he could look Mycroft in the eyes while his own were red with tears. "I've been here since he was brought in!"

"Go home, get a shower and a good night's sleep **in your bed** and then you can come back to sit or lie by his side if you like."  
"I can't just leave him, Mycroft."  
"He wouldn't want you to fall apart because of malnutrition and a lack of sleep which you always try to force on him."  
John nodded, realizing that he did have a point.

"Could you... if anything... ?"

"Of course, Dr. Watson. I'll make sure you know as soon as anything concerning his condition changes."

He just nodded again as a silent "Thank you" and turned around and as he opened the door, he took one last glance. Mycroft now occupied the chair next to Sherlock's bed and looked at him. John walked outside and silently shut the door behind him.

* * *

He tried sleeping in his own bed, but he couldn't. So he went downstairs and flopped down on Sherlock's bed, falling asleep soon after, letting himself being lulled in by the scent of the sheets that were so _Sherlock_.

As he woke up, he realized he had slept a good 3 hours, which was a lot compared to the other nights before. He got up to take a shower and John went into Sherlock's bedroom to get dressed. He'd washed the purple shirt the day before, so now it wasn't sweaty anymore. But no matter how often John had worn and washed it, Sherlock's shirt didn't lose the _Sherlock-smell_. John was grateful for that because this way, he would have Sherlock with him all the time. Surely, it was slightly too long, but he managed somehow before putting on a pair of jeans and his shoes. He took his coat again and went outside to get a cab back to the hospital.

As he slid into the back seat, he leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, keeping his gaze locked onto the buildings that were flying by and got lost in thoughts.

_Now it's been a little while trying hard to get by_

_-I really try, Sherlock. But I don't know how much longer I can cope... .-_

_All my friends ask me how I'm doing  
And I tell 'em that I'm allright, but that's a lie_

_-I've been lying to every single one of them, Sherlock. About how I feel and what I feel... .-_

_'Cause there's something missing_

_-You. You are missing, Sherlock.-_

_And I don't even understand why_

_-Why did they do this? Why did they hurt you so much?-_

_There's no telling where we may go_

_-They say you won't wake up again, Sherlock. And what then? What am I supposed to do without you?-_

Above the walls I will remain  
I was standing there by your side

_-I've been with you, Sherlock. All the time whether you wanted me to or not.-_

_I had the world inside a frame  
Through all the highs and lows  
The hopeless hopes that we would grow_

_-They say you're a hopeless case, but I still believe that you'd come back to me.-_

_I had to be there when you came home_  
_Be there when you left me all alone_

_-You left me here, but you can still come back and when you do, I'll be there.-_

As the car stopped, John threw some cash at the driver, stepped out and went to Sherlock's room. He opened the door and found Mycroft still in the chair, not seeming to have moved even an inch. As he heard the door open, Mycroft looked up at John, got up and went outside. John was alone again with Sherlock, so he went beside him, took his hand and laid down onto the bed standing right next to Sherlock's. Their fingers intertwined, John fell asleep**.**

* * *

**AN: **Sorry, just wanted to say that I know the doctor's name sounds stupid, but that was just my weird brain :D

Hope you enjoyed, next chapter up next weekend. Have a great rest weekend & a good week, whatever you'll do.

Much love, xoxo


	12. Chapter 12 - The Rest of my Life

**AN:** Back again :)

Before we go on, my weekly thank you's besides everyone who is reading this: Thank you to radiateitonme, Ouiorix Moritex & phoenix1407 for alerting my story :) & jessabelle1288 for alerting & favouriting.

**Thank you all so much, it really means a lot to me to know that people read and like my stuff :]**

**Disclaimer:** No, still don't own anything, never have, never will :(

Here it is: Chapter 12 with the song "The Rest of my Life" by Less Than Jake.

"_The day the child realizes that all adults are imperfect, he becomes an adolescent; the day he forgives them, he becomes an adult; the day he forgives himself, he becomes wise" - Alden Nowlan_

I found this quote when I searched for the song for the first time.

Sherlock & John have a talk about what is wrong. Will John convince Sherlock to leave his imaginary world for the real world with the real John?

Enjoy :)

* * *

_**Chapter 12 – The Rest of my Life:**_

John hadn't been able to sleep because of crying all night while seeing Sherlock's face. It had broken his heart. He didn't want to let go either, but what kind of person was he to keep him where he didn't belong? His mind simply hadn't shut up so he'd lain awake all night, crying, thinking, feeling guilty. What else was he to do, other than talking about it to Sherlock, trying to convince him to do the right thing and go back?

_-I can't do this to you. It's all just in your mind, Sherlock. This isn't your real life. And what is the real world going to do without you? I'm sure they can't even cope now.-_

He got up, went to take a shower and half-dressed, he made himself a cup of tea. He sat down in his living room, throwing a blanket over himself and sipping distant-minded every once in a while.

As he felt the tea go cold, John laid down on the sofa and let his eyes fall closed again.

* * *

"Mycroft, what a pure displeasure seeing you. What do you want? Need help with your diet? I see it hasn't gone well."  
Mycroft was seated in a chair, fiddling with his beloved umbrella. He looked up as Sherlock stepped in and motioned for him to sit down, but Sherlock stayed where he was.

"I was concerned, dear brother, for you and for Dr. Watson. And I want to know what made you so upset."

"I'm not upset, Mycroft!"

"Then what do you call your current emotional state?"

"I don't do emotions, Mycroft!"

"Yes, you do! Especially when it comes to your blogger slash flatmate slash lover."

Sherlock wanted to give a snarky response but he knew his brother. There was no point in lying about his feelings for John when Mycroft had his cameras everywhere and Sherlock was practically pointing his nose at things.

Sherlock sighed. "Fine. I love John. Are you happy now?"

"One could say I am utterly satisfied. You finally admit to having feelings and I highly appreciate you learned to act upon them. It was not pleasant to see him fall apart while you were in a coma."

Sherlock didn't know what to say. His brother was so... different. He still spoke in the same manner, but he was kind and... accepting that he had feelings. But wasn't he the one who'd told him that "caring is not an advantage"? It was... incredibly infuriating and annoying.

Why would he want his brother to be like this? He was sure it was because of John.

_-Incredible, warm, caring, sweet, amazing, jumperly, loving John. __**My **__John.-_

"I know I'm annoying you, Sherlock. But I am your brother and you are of my concern as well as Dr. Watson is. Anyways, you should get some rest. I am positive the results you found yourself faced with were truly exhausting."

Sherlock felt a little tired, so he turned around and went upstairs to his old bedroom. He opened the door and flopped down onto his bed, not bothering to close the door behind him. As his head hit the pillow, Sherlock felt cold, lacking the warmth of John, but nonetheless, he felt sleep overcome him as he snuggled closer into the pillow below the blanket.

* * *

John woke up to his phone buzzing on the bedside table. He lazily grabbed it and blinked twice before looking at the screen to read the message.

Can I see you? I want to talk. - SH

John smiled. It's not as if he'd known from the style of writing who it was, but he still loved those two letters at the end of the message. Then he realized his phone had buzzed again.

I missed you. Still do – SH xx

He had just read it before another one popped up.

I love you – SH xx

He smiled again and got up to get ready, hurrying up, because no matter how wrong it was to keep Sherlock here with him, he did love him. He loved him more than he cared to admit. He wrote an answer that he wanted to meet him as well and grabbed his coat and his keys before he walked out the door.

As he stepped into the cold autumn air, he shivered and wrapped his coat tightly around him, closing the zipper and turning up the collar the way Sherlock always does.

As he walked onwards, he got nervous. A part of him hoped he would be too stubborn to go back, but the rest of him was praying for Sherlock to do the right thing.

As he got to the park, he saw a tall, slim figure standing in the middle of the grass field under a large tree with his back towards John. He could tell from afar that it had to be Sherlock: The curly brown hair going all directions, the dramatic, long, dark coat. As John stepped closer, he turned around and a smile flashed across his face. This smile was just for John and it made his heart jump with joy and ache at the same time. He took a deep breath, preparing for what was inevitably going to happen and came to stand in front of Sherlock.

Sherlock took a step forward and wrapped his arms around John, resting his head on John's hair.

"I'm glad you came." He nuzzled his nose in that sandy hair, inhaling the scent that was so **John** and kissed his head before pulling back.

Sherlock pulled John with him to a nearby bench and motioned for him to sit down next to him. He took a deep breath, emotions weren't his area now were they? And then he let the words flow out of his mouth.

"Listen, John. I can't just leave you here. I love you and I can't live without you anymore and I know that you can't live without me-"

"But you don't belong here, Sherlock. This isn't real. You made all this up."

"That is because it is only in my imagination that we can be together." John's breath caught in his throat. "I know you only love me in this world because I think of us that way. But I feel better, being with you in this world for the rest of our lives than seeing you date all those incredibly dull women in the real world."

"But Sherlock-"

"No, John. You know pretty well how possessive I can be, especially when it comes to you. I don't want to lose what we have, ever. You would be alone and I wouldn't have you the way I have you now. You wouldn't be **mine**, John... ." He sounded lost, but his gaze was piercing with longing.

"But Sherlock, what about the real John?"

"I'm a high-functioning sociopath, John. I can only think of myself, you know that. I know I'm being what everyone would call 'selfish' here, but I don't want to go back to the other John. He doesn't love me and after having figured out how I really feel about you, I can't bear the thought of just being friends anymore."

"Who says it'd be like that? Why do you think I could only love you in your intelligent, but crazy mind?" John's eyes looked soft now and he took Sherlock's hands in his before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"They call me a freak and a machine, John. You know what they say. They believe I don't have a heart." John cupped Sherlock's face with both his hands.  
"But you do, Sherlock. And that's all that counts. You couldn't love me the way you do if you didn't have a heart. You wouldn't have made all this up: for me to react like this to your declaration, me running away... all of this. You have a heart and I'm proud to have found a spot in it."  
"You don't just have a spot that you own, John." He rested his forehead against John's before closing his eyes to take one last breath. "You are my heart."

John felt his hands get wet as tears rolled down the consulting detective's cheeks. He kissed them away, telling him not to cry, before he kissed him again, more passionately and through tears, Sherlock responded immediately.

As they broke, they rested their foreheads together and John gasped "And that is exactly why you can't leave him alone, Sherlock. He needs you more than I do."

Sherlock pulled back and looked John in the eyes. "You're not going to let me get away with it, are you?"

A sad smile covered John's face. "No, Sherlock. Not this time." He pulled him in for one last kiss and murmured "Goodbye, Sherlock" against his lips. With that, he stoop up, threw Sherlock one last glance and walked away, tears streaming down his face.

Sherlock sat there, no emotions visible in his face, but his eyes filled with tears as well as he realized it had begun to rain.

* * *

John was back in his flat and fell onto his bed, his face wet with tears and rain, his eyes red from crying. He thought about everything that had happened. Sherlock had to leave, no matter how much he wanted him to stay. It wasn't right like this.

_I fell asleep last Saturday_

_-Can't even tell what day it is now.-_

_Underneath polluted skies  
I walked alone on those Jersey nights, and I  
Saw the boardwalk start to fall_

_-I felt everything fall apart beneath my feet.-_

_The emptiness starts to drown  
The quiet corners off this town, and I..._

_-There was nobody there but me. And I got lost...-_

_Late last night, I made my plans_

_-I want you to go back to where you belong, Sherlock.-_

_It was the only thing I felt I could do_

_-Otherwise it just wouldn't feel right.-_

_Said goodbye, to my best friend_

_-Goodbye, Sherlock...- _Tears started streaming down his face again, dropping onto the sheets, turning the colour a darker blue.

_Sometimes there's no one left to tell you the truth _

_It's gonna kill me: The rest of my life_

_-If I hadn't let you go, I couldn't live with it anymore.-_

_Let me apologize while I'm still alive  
I know it's hard to face all of my past mistakes  
It's gonna kill me for the rest of my life _

_-I'm sorry, Sherlock. For everything. All of this shouldn't have happened and I'm so, so sorry.-_

The tears had stopped as he felt sleep overcome him.

* * *

**AN:** I know it's quite short, but I hope you liked it anyway.

Currently back to writing on this story again, 'cause I got an idea. I hope to wrap this up in a couple of chapters as well as stick to my weekly updates.

Thank you for reading :)

Much love, xoxo


	13. Chapter 13 - Hero of War

**AN:** Before this story goes on, I need to do my weekly thank you's to everyone reading this, it really makes me happy :)

And special thanks to WatsonandSherlockforever & NW1 for alerting!

I am really flashed by the response I've gotten since this is the first fic I've written & published with smut and whatnot ;)

**Big hugs and internet cookies for everyone of you! Thank you!**

And here is chapter 13. The song is "Hero of War" by Rise Against and this time, the title could probably even indicate what might happen. Maybe ;)

Anyways, on with the story, before I get carried away bombarding you with an extremely long AN :D

John tells Sherlock about his time during war. I also managed to sneak Greg and Mrs. Hudson into this :P Enjoy!

_**Chapter 13 – Hero of War:**_

As John opened his eyes the next morning, he saw Sherlock lying beside him and he let out the breath he had been holding. He wouldn't have been able to see the room empty once again, but Sherlock was still here with him. It was alright. Almost.

John sat up and stretched, yawning as the door opened. He looked up and saw a nurse coming in, checking up on Sherlock, but as she went to readjust his pillow, he stopped her and sent her away. He was going to do that.

Minutes later, the door opened again and John was about to say something that it was about time a doctor showed up to check on Sherlock, because those nurses bloody hell had no idea what they were doing, so thank you very much, but as he turned around, he saw Greg standing in the door frame.

"Greg. What are you doing here?" John sounded extremely surprised.

"I wanted to check up on him. Even if the rest of the yard doesn't care about him and even is he doesn't really care about me visiting, I care and I thought I could see how the both of you are doing."

John smiled. Greg was except for John probably the closest thing Sherlock had, excluding Mycroft for Sherlock's sake.

"We're doing rather good actually."

"Are you?" Greg looked down on him.

"Well, I suppose he is." John motioned over to Sherlock with his head.

"And what about you?" Greg sounded concerned and he most likely was.

"I have slept better last night, you know, knowing he was right next to me, still breathing."

"That's good..." There was an awkward silence filling the air, before Greg dared to think of speaking out the next couple of words. "John, as a doctor..." John's head shot up while Greg's hand had found his neck. "You know that there is a possibility... of him" he motioned with his head over to Sherlock just the way John had done it "never-"

"Don't you even **dare** finish that thought, Lestrade! Everyone keeps telling me the same bullshit over and over again! I'm sick of it! Do you even listen to yourself? We are talking about **Sherlock Holmes **here!" His voice grew louder as he continued his rant. "I don't care what anybody else says, I know him better! He **will** wake up, Lestrade. He **will** come back to me. He **must**..." His voice trembled, making the last words come out as nothing more than a whisper. John flopped down on the chair next to Sherlock's bed, tears finding their ways down his cheeks.

"He just has to, Greg." He looked up at his friend. "What am I supposed to do without him?"

Greg heard the sadness and hopelessness in his friend's voice as he stepped beside him to put a hand on his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, John. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, just to be disappointed in the end." John looked up at him and merely nodded in understanding.

"Why don't you go home to get something to eat and take a shower. I'll stay with Sherlock for the time being."

"Thanks Greg. I really appreciate this." Greg gave a nod and John got up and went to the door. As he reached for the handle, he turned his head towards Greg again.

"Take care of him, Greg. And please tell me immediately if anything happens."  
"Sure. Will do."

And with that, John left the room and Greg took the spot John had occupied before, seated on the chair next to Sherlock's bed.

* * *

He arrived in front of 221 Baker Street and paid the cabbie before walking inside. As he wanted to go upstairs, Mrs. Hudson entered the hallway, wanting to look after him.

"John, dear, you look horrible. Why don't you stay home for a while and I'll cook you some dinner. You need to rest or you won't be able to walk much longer."

"I know, Mrs. Hudson. I know." He looked down. "But dinner would be great after taking a shower."  
"Just this once dear, I'm not your housekeeper."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. You really are an angel." He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek, before walking upstairs to throw his clothes into the washing machine, except for the purple shirt he'd worn. He took a shower and as he stepped out, he wasn't really more relaxed, but he felt slightly better. He put on some clean pants, socks and jeans before hand washing the purple shirt and letting it dry. As he stepped into the living room, he found a tray with a cup of Earl Grey and a plate of spaghetti bolognese.

_-Mrs. Hudson is most definitely the kindest, loving and caring woman I've ever known.-_

So John sat on the couch and shovelled the food into his mouth. Up until now, he hadn't realized how hungry he was. After finishing his meal, he put the dishes in the sink and haphazardly washed them.

_-I should get back to Sherlock...-_

So he got the purple shirt, put some shoes on and went to get his coat before hurrying downstairs. John knocked on the door of Hrs. Hudson's appartment and thanked her as she opened her door by hugging her and giving her another kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. Dinner was incredibly delicious and you are truly incredible." He gave her a kiss on the other cheek before turning around to leave.

"John, dear?" He faced her again. "I made you some sandwiches in case you want to stay with Sherlock for a longer time." She smiled at him and he beamed.

"I don't know what to say, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you."

"Promise me you will take care of the both of you. That is all I want."  
"I promise." And with that being said, he took the bag of sandwiches from her hand, gave her one last kiss on her cheek and turned to leave to try and keep his promise.

* * *

As John entered the hospital, he avoided the nurse he'd yelled at and snuck past her to get to Sherlock's room. He hadn't liked her before, but now he disliked her even more. Luckily she didn't notice him, ex-army guy that he was silent enough not to get her attention, and he quickly opened the door to Sherlock's room and silently closed it behind him before breathing out again.

As he looked up, Greg grinned at him. "Stephanie?" He looked at him, a big question mark covering his face. "The nurse you yelled at."

"Ah, yeah. Didn't want to meet her."

"Right, she can be a real pain in the ass, you know." Greg still grinned and John couldn't help himself and a big smile now covered his face.

"What you got there?" Greg nodded towards the bag in John's hand.

"Oh, sandwiches made by Mrs. Hudson. Want one?"

"Starving." He grabbed one from the bag and got to the door. "Well, besht be off. Got shome work to do. Shee ya!" Munching, Greg slapped John on the shoulder "Hang in shere, mate. 'f you need anyshing, jusht lemme know, yeah?" As John nodded, Greg turned towards the door and went out. The last thing John heard was a loud "My god, shese are she besht shandwitches I've ever had!" before it was quiet again.

John laid down on the empty bed and intertwined his hand with Sherlock's. Suddenly a thought hit him. "You know what, Sherlock? I've never really told you about my days in the army and if I'd do it under normal circumstances, you probably wouldn't listen to a single word I said" A small chuckle escaped his lips. "So now you'll have to listen, alright?"

_He said, "Son,  
Have you seen the world?  
Well, what would you say  
If I said that you could?  
Just carry this gun, you'll even get paid."  
I said, "That sounds pretty good"_

"I was told I would see the world and when they gave me the opportunity to join the army, I accepted. And because I could become a doctor quite easily this way,... well, I just went with it."

_Black leather boots  
Spit-shined so bright  
They cut off my hair but it looked alright  
We marched and we sang  
We all became friends  
As we learned how to fight_

"We had to take care of our clothes and we got out hair cut pretty short before going into training. Well, when you are fighting to stay alive, you bond. And those friendships can last a lifetime."

_A hero of war  
Yeah, that's what I'll be  
And when I come home  
They'll be damn proud of me  
I'll carry this flag  
To the grave if I must  
'cause it's the flag that I love  
And the flag that I trust_

"I wanted to make my dad proud of me by joining the army and I guess he would have been..."

_I kicked in the door  
I yelled my commands  
The children, they cried  
But I got my man  
We took him away  
A bag over his face  
From his family and his friends_

"We were supposed to storm a house in the north-east and as we entered, we saw little children crying as we took away their father." Tears now filled John's eyes but he did his best not to let them fall.

_They took off his clothes  
They pissed in his hands  
I told them to stop  
But then I joined in  
We beat him with guns  
And batons not just once  
But again and again_

"He had information that we needed so they tortured him as he wouldn't talk. I tried to stop them but eventually I gave in and joined them." His voice cracked as he went on. "We beat him over and over again until he couldn't handle it anymore and told us all we wanted to know."

_A hero of war  
Yeah that's what I'll be  
And when I come home  
They'll be damn proud of me  
I'll carry this flag  
To the grave if I must  
'cause it's the flag that I love  
And the flag that I trust_

_She walked through bullets and haze  
I asked her to stop  
I begged her to stay  
But she pressed on  
So I lifted my gun  
And I fired away_

"There was a woman one day walking across the open field towards our camp while we were under fire. I yelled at her to stay where she was and not move further. It was said we should shoot if someone was walking towards us without reacting towards our threats since there were many women used as suicide bombers in Afghanistan. She didn't listen, so... I shot her..." He couldn't hold back the tears now, they wetted his cheeks.

_And the shells jumped through the smoke  
And into the sand  
That the blood now had soaked  
She collapsed with a flag in her hand  
A flag white as snow_

"There was smoke everywhere... and the bullet cases fell to the ground and the sand... it turned red from her blood..." He swallowed and sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "She fell to the ground and as she did, we saw that she was holding a flag in her hand. A white flag, Sherlock. She wanted to surrender and I killed her... I never forgave myself for that."

_A hero of war  
Is that what they see  
Just medals and scars  
So damn proud of me  
And I brought home that flag  
Now it gathers dust  
But it's the flag that I love  
It's the only flag I trust_

"And everyone I knew was so damn proud of me for having served the country. But all I could think about was the flag that woman had carried. I took it with me before we left and I still have it. You said that heros don't exist, Sherlock. People always told me I was a hero, but I agree with you. There's no such thing. People can't be heroes. Especially not if they need to kill another person to become one..."

_He said, "Son, have you seen the world?  
Well what would you say  
If I said that you could?"_

"And all of this only because I didn't want to stay home. I wanted to see something, be someone, do something..."

"And that was pretty much the whole story. I know it's harsh and it wasn't right, but it was war. We only did what we were told." He felt hot tears streaming down his face now, dropping onto Sherlock's hand, still intertwined with his. And suddenly, he felt a light twitch around his hand and as he looked up, he saw Sherlock's eyes flicker open. In 5 seconds, he was up and stood by Sherlock's side, pushing the emergency button next to his head.

"Sherlock, can you hear me?" Now there were tears of happiness filling his eyes as the doctor came running in, checking in on him and not believing his eyes.

"I told you who he was and what he was capable of." He turned to Sherlock, brushing the locks from his forehead and whispered "I've always believed in you, always..."  
But as he wanted to place a kiss onto his forehead, he realized what he was about to do and looked at Sherlock. "What is it?"

The next sentence stopped the blood in John's body from flowing. "Who are you?"

* * *

**AN: **I know I am mean with this and I apologize, but this idea just wouldn't let me go.

Hope you enjoyed nonetheless.

Much love, xoxo


	14. Chapter 14 - Remember Me

**AN: **Yes, I know, my notes are always too damn long, but I'll try keeping it short.

Thank you all for reading so far, I'm really happy with the response I got for my very first fanfiction :)

Special thanks this week to Godiva9 for alerting, all of you who do and did anything to show me what you think and that you like my idea, make me really, really happy :]

**Disclaimer (because I forgot before xD):** I don't own _Sherlock_, I'd love to tho. Don't own the song either, everything belongs to their rightful owners.

Here we go with chapter 14 and the song is "Remember Me" by Hoobastank.

Summary: Sherlock has woken up, but doesn't recognize John. How will they cope?

* * *

_**Chapter 14 – Remember Me:**_

"What?"

"Who are you?"

John stumbled backwards, trying to steady himself against the wall. A nurse was beside him and held him upright while she took him outside to sit down on a chair in the hallway. The nurse quickly got him a glass of water that he almost dropped from the shock before she went into the room again.

John just sat there, his face as if it was made of stone, staring at the ground.

_-He doesn't remember me. He doesn't remember me. He doesn't know who I am, what we've been through. He doesn't know anything... . I know I should've been prepared for this or at least have expected this, but... . It seems like as if I don't... .-_

His mind elsewhere, John took a sip of the water and he didn't realize someone coming closer to sit down next to him. He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Whoa, easy, man. Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to check in. What's wrong?"

Now John turned and raised his head to look at Greg. "He woke up. All those injuries and the many beatings to his head and he woke up again. No doctor would believe me when I said he'd come back, but he did, Greg."  
"But shouldn't you be, you know, happy?"

Now John put the glass of water down to grab Greg by his shoulders.

"He doesn't remember me, Greg! He won't remember you and Mycroft either!

* * *

"So this is our flat?" Sherlock stepped inside, hesitating. He took a look around, trying to memorize all the important things and file them away in his supposed-to-be mind palace.

"Yeah, my bedroom is upstairs, yours is right behind that door." John felt awkward, seeing Sherlock right in front of him without being read like an open book. "I'm gonna make some tea."

He went into the kitchen and Sherlock stood there, looking after him.

"Who was that older woman downstairs?"

"Mrs. Hudson. She's the landlady."

"She seems lovely."  
"That she is." John forced a smile as he turned around to hand Sherlock his mug.

"Thank you, John." He smirked.

_-God, how I have missed that smile and those eyes...-_

John couldn't help but smile back, no matter how awkward it might seem to him.  
"You're welcome, Sherlock."

Still unsure, Sherlock slowly walked over to the couch and sat down. John followed him, but made sure to keep his distance to not overwhelm Sherlock. It surely was hard enough as it was and rushing things would only make it worse.

They both drank their tea in silence before Sherlock got up to wash their cups.

"Sherlock, you don't need-"

"I got this, John. I may not know everything, but I'm perfectly capable of doing the dishes, thank you very much. Now, where's the washing-up liquid?"  
"I-in the c-closet... uhm,... b-below the s-sink-" John had problems answering. It was so unusual that it scared him more than he cared to admit. He had been a goddamn soldier! He just had to be patient.

_-Right, as if that was my strength.- _He covered his face with his hands, rubbing at his eyes, sighing.

"Are you alright, John?" John looked up and Sherlock's eyes showed concern. Even though he didn't know who John was, Sherlock trusted him and he was worried about his former best friend.

"I'm fine, Sherlock. It's just..." His voice trailed off and he looked down again, not wanting to see _this look_ on his flatmate's face. But he dared to look up again as the cushion of the sofa sunk down.

"Tell me, I want to help." Sherlock looked at him with that piercing gaze _-No, he hasn't forgotten that one.-_ and John forced himself to hold that gaze.

"It's just..." John sighed again.

"Dufficult?" Sherlock suggested. "With me not knowing who you are and most likely I may be acting completely out of character." John looked away. _Spot on.-_

"John, look at me." He still kept his gaze onto the now so interesting carpet.

"John, please." Sherlock lifted his right hand to place it beneath John's chin and turned his head so he had to look Sherlock in the eyes. They were full of regret and sorrow.

"I'm sorry I don't remember you, John. I wish I would, I wish I could."

"It's not your fault, Sherlock. I mean, you tend to like deleting things unimportant for your cases from your mind palace, but-"

"My what?"

"Your mind palace. You go there if you're searching for specific case-related information that you saved on your hard drive up there." He tipped his forefinger against Sherlock's forehead. "You told me at the very beginning that you only put stuff on your hard drive that are actually useful, complaining about how normal people fill their brains with all kinds of stuff so they can't get to the important things." John smiled at the memory and Sherlock listened, interested.

"You file everything you allow to stay on that hard drive of yours away in your mind palace. I never really understood how it works, but you never told me. I just accepted the fact that you somehow really have a hard drive up there where you order things and delete everything that doesn't seem useful to you."  
"Tell me more, John."  
He looked at him. "About what?"  
"About me and about those people at the hospital."

"You are a consulting detective. Don't look at me like that. You are the only one in the world as you invented the job. You loved the riddles, the puzzles behind the cases of Scotland Yard since they come to you when they are out of their depth which is according to you always. And we chased the bad guys all around London. You anticipated where they'd go because you memorized a plan of London on your hard drive." John looked down smiling as Sherlock's hands were now folded across his lap.

"And you would rattle down your deductions in front of everybody so fast, no one was able to catch up. You always said your brain was working so fast, it was hard for you to even catch a thought and your brain just wouldn't shut up."

Sherlock hadn't moved but now he looked at John again as he asked him "Who were those people in the room with us as the hospital?"

John looked up, but he still avoided Sherlock's gaze.

"The one in the suit, that was Mycroft. He's your brother."

Sherlock's face fell. _-A brother...- _"How do we get along?"

John let out a small chuckle before stopping himself, hoping Sherlock hadn't heard it. But if he had, he didn't act upon it.

"Well, to be honest, after I'd first met him, I was told he was your arch enemy." Sherlock looked shocked. "Yeah, that was my reaction exactly. He tends to 'poke his nose in our business which is not of his concern' according to you but he just cares about you, Sherlock. He even proclaims doing it constantly which would be proven by the cameras he's got installed in our flat." At this, Sherlock sat completely stiff, only moving his eyes to look around.

"No, don't worry. I told him to remove them all for your own sake. Mycroft understood and he sent his men to do as I pleased." Sherlock released a sigh of relief and relaxed visibly next to John.

John smiled again. "He keeps telling eveyone he owns a 'minor position in the British government' while I tend to believe your version of him **being** the British government. He first got my attention by letting all the telephones ring when I walked past them and when I finally picked one up, he moved the CCTV cameras so they didn't catch me anymore. Then, a black car pulled up and he ordered me to get in. And he offered me money to keep him updated about you. At that point, I didn't know he was your brother. Anyways, I refused and you where angry at me, saying we could have needed the money." John laughed a little and Sherlock started giggling. It felt like after their first case. _-How I have missed his laugh.-_

"The other ones, who were they?"

"The other man with the short greyish hair that was D.I. Gregory Lestrade. He consults you on cases."  
"So he's with the police."

"Exactly. And the girl with the ponytail, that's Molly Hooper. She works at the morgue and..."  
John stopped himself. Should he tell him? _-Maybe it's too much.-_

"John? What is it?"_  
_"It's just... I'm not sure if I should tell you. I'm scared it could be too much. Maybe we should leave it at that, at least for now." He tried to get up, but pale, long, slender fingers curled around his wrist, pulling him down on the sofa again.

"Tell me, John. I want to know and you've been honest with me up to this point, right?" Sherlock turned his face to search for confirmation in his eyes, but John looked down and nodded slightly.

"There we go. So why do you want to hide something from me?"

John looked at him and his eyes filled with tears. "I just don't want you to feel obliged to do something if I tell you."

Sherlock put his arms around John, pulling him into a close but awkward hug ans whispered "Why don't you let me decide, John. I know you just want to protect me, but I'm fine given the circumstances and I will be if you tell me. It's alright."

John relaxed a bit and whispered into Sherlock's shoulder "Molly, she's got a thing for you."

"I believe that's nothing I couldn't live with. I'm glad you told me though, John. Thank you for being so concerned and still so honest with me."

_-I still feel there would be no use in lying to you. You're Sherlock, I could never lie to you.-_

"You should get some rest. This was after all a pretty exciting day for you." John smiled and pulled back. "Hop away, get some sleep. I'll be upstairs if you need me."  
Sherlock nodded and padded to his room, closing the door firmly behins him after calling a quick "Goodnight, John". He sat down on the bed and let his thoughts wander.

_I stand here face to face  
With someone that I used to know_

_-Someone I am supposed to know.-_

_He used to look at me and laugh  
But now he claims  
That he's known me for so very long  
But I remember being no one_

_-I can't remember. I don't know who he is, no matter how hard I try and no matter how much I want to remember and know...-_

John was still sitting on the sofa, thinking.

_I wanted to be just like you  
So perfect, so untouchable_

_-I wanted to be more like you, Sherlock.-_

_Now you want me to be with you_

_-No, be there for you without being with you.-_

_Someone who used to have it all  
Do you remember now_

_-Please, Sherlock. Please remember me...-_

John went upstairs, listening to the silence of the flat interrupted by the noises of the still very busy city. Soon after not hearing anything from Sherlock downstairs, John fell asleep.

* * *

Sherlock jolted awake, jumping out of his bed, eyes wide open and ready to hit someone if necessary. He looked around, alarmed before he realized where the noise came from. He slowly opened the door and quietly made his way upstairs to John's room to see what was going on.

As Sherlock opened the door a little, he peaked his head inside, carefully, but except for John who was in his bed, there was nobody else around.

He looked at John thrashing around in his bed, kicking and screaming "No, Sherlock!".

Sherlock shuffled closer to the bed, unsure of what to do. He came to stand next to the bed, slowly sitting down and trying to keep John lying still on the bed.

He leaned closer, whispering "Shh, John. It's alright. I'm here. It's all fine, John.". He felt John relax to the sound of his voice before he opened his eyes.

"Sherlock? What are you doing here?" He shot up into a sitting position, quickly checking Sherlock for any injuries with his eyes. "Oh my God, are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?"  
The questions just flooded out of his mouth while his eyes still roamed over Sherlock's body, scanning for any visible injuries.

"No, John." Sherlock almost whispered, his right hand still lingering on John's left shoulder. "I heard noises and when I came up here, you were screaming, thrashing around in your bed, obviously fast asleep. What was wrong, John?"

John looked him in the eyes, unsure of what to say.

"Tell me, John. And please tell me the truth."

John sighed and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his thumbs before pinching the bridge of his nose as he answered.

"I was a soldier. When we first met, you simply asked if it was Afghanistan or Iraq. Since I've been invalided home, I had those nightmares resulting from the PTSD I suffer from." Sherlock shot him a questioning glance. "Posttraumatic stress disorder. It's..."

He looked down, embarrassed. "It's a severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to any events that result in psychological trauma. For me, it was being shot during war. I often dream of the war, of those men dying in my arms while I try to save their lives, of me getting shot in the middle of the desert."

Sherlock had taken his hand from John's shoulder to let it rest in his lap. John's skin tingled where he had felt the warmth of Sherlock's hand seep through his clothes to be absorbed by his body, spreading and filling it with warmth.

But now Sherlock shifted closer, wrapping his arms around John. "Why were you calling** my** name then, John? I wasn't in Afghanistan, at least as far as I know." He chuckled.

John blushed in Sherlock's arms, but it was dark enough and he rested his head on his flatmate's shoulder so Sherlock wouldn't see it.

"No, you weren't. But people with PTSD tend to project people onto those dreams, those fears... special people."  
"In which way special?" His voice was quiet, soothing.

"Well... it's people... one usually cares about."

Sherlock pulled back to look at John, well as best as he could given the non-existent light flooding the room. "You care about me?"

John was glad the lights were off as he felt himself turn crimson.  
"I do, Sherlock. Even if you don't remember me or anything we've been through." He looked into the darkness where Sherlock's eyes were supposed to be. "Because **I** remember. I remember the way you deduced me, the way you solved the cases we took, the little bickerings you had with your brother, the insults and the deductions you threw at Donovan and Anderson – don't ask, you'll meet them again soon enough – I can recall all those crazy experiments you got the kitchen table covered with, all the body parts next to the rest of our take-away in the fridge and all those bullets you'd been able to shoot at the smiley on the wall before I got to hide the gun."

Sherlock wanted to get up an leave but John stopped him. "It doesn't matter if you remember me or not, at least not to me." He pulled him into another hug. "I know who you were, but I don't care. I'm only glad you're back." John cradled Sherlock and gently stroked his cheeks.

"What are we, John? I mean, what were we before I fell into the coma?"

He stayed silent, stopping the stroking so Sherlock gently cupped John's chin to meet his eyes in the dark. "John? Tell me and please, just don't lie to me."

John wanted to leave now, but Sherlock returned the favour of not letting go.

"John? I just want to know. How do you feel?"

"We were flatmates, nothing more. No matter how often people thought otherwise. You didn't care about what others thought and I kept denying it."

It was only one single word, short and small, but this thing whispered into his hear sent a shiver down John's spine. "Why?"

John's voice was shaking when he asked "W-Why w-what?"

"Why did you deny it, John?"

_-What? Is this the Sherlock from before the incident?-_

"Because..." Johnn didn't dare answer, sure he hadn't thought this through.

They were siting close now – **too close** – John felt Sherlock's breath on his skin.

"Sherlock, listen. I-"  
But he was cut off by Sherlock's soft lips on his.

"Isn't that what you wanted, John? Though the forehead could have been a good start. Still..." Sherlock murmured against John's lips.

"Stop talking." John pulled him down for another kiss, slowly lying down on the bed with Sherlock on top of him, never breaking the contact.

His hands slid down Sherlock's chest below the fabric of his shirt. The skin was soft and warm, giving him goosebumps. Sherlock shivered from the touch before staying completely still.

"Did you hear that?"

"What? I didn't hear anything."  
Sherlock jumped off the bed, slowly sneaking downstairs. John went right behind him, gun at the ready.

"Be careful."  
As Sherlock wanted to answer, he heard a loud thump behind him. He turned around and suddenly he felt pain before everything went black.

* * *

**AN: **Yeah, another one, sorry. Gonna make it real short tho.

This'll be wrapped up with one chapter and an epilogue. I hope you enjoyed it so far and I'm so not sorry for the cliffhanger :D

Lots of love, have a nice rest-weekend and hopefully a wonderful week that'll be less stressfull than mine, but I'm not gonna complain.

See you next weekend, xoxo


	15. Chapter 15 - I won't let You go

**AN:** Thank you so much to everyone for reading, favouriting, following, reviewing, just everything :)

I never thought I'd get this wave of a response for this, but I'm very happy about all of this.

In case you ignored it before or forgot: Any mistakes are mine, this is neither beta'd nor brit-picked & I'm not a native-speaker. I apologize profusely for anything that's wrong or odd.

This is chapter 15, the final chapter of this story. The song is James Morrison's "I won't let You go".

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Sherlock_ or any of the characters except for the ones with the stupid names like the doctor xD Neither do I own the lyrics to "I won't let you go" although I love the song and I think James Morrison is a genius for writing this!

John takes care of Sherlock. And I guess a blow to the back of the head can do wonders... can it? Teensy bit of Mycroft stopping by. Hasn't he got a timing? ;)

This is another M-rated chapter. But I'm not quite sure why you clicked on this story if you don't like it, so rather a promise than a warning ;)

* * *

_**Chapter 15 – I won't let You go:**_

John felt a light blinding him as he tried to open his eyes. Blinking a few times, he realized he was in the living room in his sleeping clothes. And then the pain set in.

_-What the...?! God, did I sleepwalk and bang my head somewhere? Wait, where's Sherlock?-_

He looked around, flinching at the pain that interfered with every single thought he tried to process.

"Sherlock? Where are you?" No answer. "Sherlock? Talk to me."

_-Please not the same again, please, please not... .-_

He walked around the flat, finding Sherlock in the kitchen, spread out across the floor next to the table.

"Oh my god, Sherlock! Sherlock, open your eyes. Come on, open your eyes!"

He slapped his cheeks, trying to wake him up, just hoping it would be enough this time.

_-Sherlock, don't leave me again, please. Just don't... .-_

He took his pulse and breathed a sigh of relief as he realized it was there, strong and regular.

"Sherlock, come on!" He saw the eyes of his flatmate flutter open. "Good, look at me, Sherlock." The grey-blue eyes focused on him. "Okay, talk to me, do you remember what happened to get you lying down here on the floor in the kitchen?"  
"There was a noise last night. I went to your room and we... _-Oh, we did... didn't we?- _well, there was another noise and we went downstairs. Someone must've hit me from behind, I only remember going downstairs after that and then everything went black."

"Good, so you remember everything from yesterday. Come on up, let me take a look at your head."

They went over to the couch and Sherlock let John examine the skin beneath those black, silky curls.  
"I got a massive headache. Could you fetch me something, John?"  
"Of course, I'll be right back. Just stay here." Sherlock nodded and John hurried off into the bathroom. "Here you go."

"Thank you, John." He took the pills and downed the glass of water John had brought with him before he sprawled himself out across the couch and John. He laid on his back on top of his shorter flatmate who was resting against the cushion.

"John?" It was a quiet plea, but John caught it nonetheless. He hummed in short response and Sherlock quietly went on. "Would you... I mean, as a doctor... do something... to make the headache go away?"

John shifted a little so Sherlock was resting against his chest between his legs and he softly caressed Sherlock's scalp, tangling his fingers in those long, black curls. He felt Sherlock relax against his body and soon after the detective made an approving noise and John continued the massage.

No words were spoken, no thoughts shared and the sound Sherlock made filled John with warmth, especially when he realized that Sherlock was purring like a tall manly cat.

_-That sound... .-_

The longer things went on, the sleepier John got and as he became aware of the fact that the purring consulting detective had fallen asleep, he drowsed off as well.

* * *

As John woke up again, he found Sherlock looking at him, still sprawled out over him.

"Do you know that it's creepy watching someone sleep?"

"I don't care. I like watching you doing stuff." John slightly chuckled but then he saw Sherlock frowning.

"What is it? You look concerned."

"I was thinking..."  
"About what?"  
"When I was in the coma, you were there." John still had his arms around Sherlock, but now he took his hand to lead him to the couch.

"How do you mean?"

"It was so real. It was as if everything else had been a dream."

John put a reassuring hand on Sherlock's in his lap and said "Tell me about it."

"You were at the hospital when I woke up, wearing a ring. You told me it'd been 8 years since I fell into a coma and that you were married to Sarah, but you hesitated to tell me about her. And there was one thing that threw me off guard. You said: "_I felt like as if I'd lost you. I had to move on if I didn't want to break down. I was crushed, Sherlock... Mycroft observed me all the time and if he hadn't stopped me, I wouldn't be standing here right now. He made me move on because it would've destroyed me otherwise." _That was basically you telling me you almost committed suicide, John. All because of me. But then you met Sarah, you married her and she was pregnant when she was run over by a car. Both her and the baby died. You ran away from me and after Mycroft had annoyed me at the hospital, getting me to think about why you were acting so weird, I followed you. I annoyed Mycroft to give me your new address since you'd moved out of 221b and I went there." John let out a small chuckle at the mention of his little bickering with his brother and he saw Sherlock smile at that.

"Anyways, we talked and you told me it was wrong to stay in this world with you and that I needed to go back to you, the real you."

"So, just to make sure I get this right. The fictional John told you to come back to me, the real Me?"

"Yep. You had to really convince me though. I had built this world just the way I wanted it and I didn't want to leave again. I did eventually. For you."

He looked up at John, not knowing what to expect.

"What do you mean? Why didn't you want to leave?"

Sherlock hesitated to answer these questions, but as John gave him a stern look, he gave up.

"In this world, I had imagined... we..." _-Okay, I know I'm not good with emotions, but this can't be __**that**__ hard... .-_ "I imagined we were more."

John smiled but Sherlock looked at the carpet so he couldn't see John's face.

"You imagined us to be more than flatmates and friends. You wanted us to be the way we were last night?"  
Sherlock just sighed and John took the opportunity to kneel down in front of him, take his face in his hands so Sherlock had to look at him and he said "You brilliant stupid git." before kissing him full on the mouth.

"Two things though, John." He stopped sucking at his neck to look Sherlock in the eyes. "I want more. Of those massages, of your perfect tea and of you. Forever. And two: We are definitely taking care of each other more and we're not going to move out of here, ever."

"Agreed on every- Wait. How do you know how my tea tastes. You didn't even- Do you remember?"  
"Guess a blow to the head can have its positive side. Good to-" But John didn't let him finish. He was now sitting on his lap, kissing him fiercely. Sherlock tried pulling him closer, needing to touch everywhere.

"I missed you so much." John left Sherlock's mouth trailing kisses along his neck and jawline while he tried to get him out of his shirt. As he was topless, Sherlock wanted to get this thing off John, but then he realized what it was. "Seriously?" John immediately stopped sucking on Sherlock's neck to look at him

"What?"  
"I didn't realize it until now. You're not wearing a tee shirt, you're wearing my purple shirt."

"I call it the 'purple shirt of sex'. It... smelled so much of you, I wanted to have it with me all the time and since you had to wear this stupid hospital dress, I had to wear it."

"Purple shirt of sex, huh? Good someone is wearing it now then." Sherlock said with a smirk.

John wiped the smirk off his face and shut him up at the same time before he let Sherlock lay back to straddle him. He opened every single button very slowly as he kissed his way along Sherlock's chest down to his stomach.

"John, don't-"  
"Don't what, Sherlock."

"Stop being such a tease and get the fuck naked!"

"No." He crossed the shirt in front of his chest, securing it with his crossed arms.

"What?" Sherlock shot up. "Why not?"

"Because" John leant closer to whisper in Sherlock's ear "I don't want to fuck you, I want to make love to you, slowly, carefully. And I want you to beg me." This time John smiled as he licked and sucked at Sherlock's pulse on his neck to mark him.

"Please, John. Take this incredibly sexy looking cloth off and do what you plan on doing."  
"Very well." John slid the shirt off his arms and threw it across the room.

"I'm so goddamn happy you came back to me."

Sherlock pulled John down for a kiss while he opened the belt of John's jeans.

"Wait right here, I'll be right back." John hopped off Sherlock and ran to his room, losing the jeans on the way. "We're going to need this" John said, holding up a bottle of lube. Sherlock smiled and took off the rest of his clothes in high speed. "Bed" was all he said before he took John by the hand and kicked the door closed because his arms were too occupied with holding John.

Sherlock laid down again, pulling John on top of him. "You're still wearing too many clothes." He let his hand wander beneath the infuriating boxer shorts, earning a moan from John.

"Take it off and there will be lots more." He kissed his way across John's jawline, to his neck and down his chest to his navel.

John quickly got up and let his boxer shorts fall to the floor. He captured Sherlock's mouth with his, prouding the mouth of the detective open with his tongue. Sherlock happily obliged and explored John's taste again on his own. He straddled Sherlock and whispered in his ear "I'm gonna make love to you and you better file that away in your mind palace.". Sherlock shuddered, but hummed approvingly. The next thing he heard before his mind shut off was the click of the bottle.

John poured some lube onto his fingers and sat down between Sherlock's legs, spreading them a bit further. He looked his detective in the eyes and was pulled in for a quick kiss. _-Yes, you may.-_

So John inserted one finger and Sherlock let out a whimper at that. John's heart skipped a beat, seeing Sherlock so defenseless, so vulnereable in front of him as he realized that **he** had been able to make him show this side. And it skipped another as he became aware that he was the only one who would **ever** see this side of Sherlock. And how he loved it.

As he added a second finger, Sherlock let out a loud, long moan that John cut off with his lips. They were both hard as John poured some more lube into his hands, stroking his cock before he pulled Sherlock on top of him. Sherlock remembered his coma-induced dream and he loved the fact that this time, his real first time would be with John inside him. As he sat down, he felt full although it hurt a little. But as he accommodated to the pain, he felt complete, for the first time in his life.

He rode John harder with every second passing by and John managed to hit Sherlock's prostate with every thrust.

"I'm so glad you're a doctor, John" Sherlock moaned.

John took Sherlock's cock in his hands and stroked him slowly. "Come for me, Sherlock."

And again, Sherlock obliged and covered John's hands and his stomach with his cum. John felt Sherlock tighten and the cry Sherlock had let out sent him over the edge as he came inside his lover.

As Sherlock laid on his back again, he pulled John with him, kissing him lazily. John laid his head on Sherlock's chest and listened to his steady heartbeat while tracing circles across his chest.

"I love your heartbeat. It tells me you're still with me."

John closed his eyes and soon fell asleep so he didn't hear Sherlock talk to his brother on the phone.

* * *

Sherlock was playing with John's hair as he felt him stir in his sleep. He turned his head to look as his blogger and saw him open his eyes slowly.

"Good morning, love."

"Morning, sleepy head." -_God, this voice... .-_

"I'd love to hear your morning voice more often. That is just pure sex to my ears."  
Sherlock smiled. "And I'd be happy to oblige."

John propped up on his elbow and let his other hand wander to those curls he loved so much, leaning down to press a soft kiss to those cupid bow lips.

"Why don't we get a shower and then have some breakfast?"

"When you say 'we get a shower'..."  
"I mean, I want to shower and you are invited to join me." John winked at him as he stood up and went to open the bathroom door. Sherlock jumped out of the bed immediately and John laughed when he came up to him in the bed sheet, wrapping it around both of them as they tumbled inside, kissing.

They had been inside for ten minutes before there was a knock on the door.

"Yohoo, boys! You have a visitor!"

_-Well hasn't Mycroft got a timing... .-_

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but told John he'd deal with it before he gave him a quick peck on the lips. John groaned, but eventually he let go and Sherlock slipped out of the bathroom.

Sherlock wrapped himself in the sheet again, knowing Mycroft would be quite annoyed if he wasn't dressed properly. After all, Sherlock had forced Mycroft to come over.

"There he is, my dear brother. Coming out of a coma, then sleeping with his flatmate slash blogger, ordering me over here the next morning and he still doesn't know how to dress properly."  
"Only for you, Mycroft. Just because you have a terrible timing. Let's get this over with. Do you have what I asked you for?"  
Indeed, brother dear. I have brought what you wanted me to obtain."

Sherlock took it out of Mycroft's hands and turned around to get back to his room, well his and John's.

"Well, you may leave now."  
"Goodbye, little brother. And do give my best regards to Dr. Watson. I will see myself out." And with that, he left.

Sherlock hurried into **their **bedroom and hid what Mycroft had brought with him beneath his pillow before he turned to the bathroom and snuck inside.

Sherlock came to stand behind John and wrapped his arms around the smaller man, placing kisses on his neck and nuzzling at it.

"I got rid of Mycroft and now I want to take a shower with you, get dirty again and maybe repeat the procedure." He smiled against John's neck and felt him shaking with laughter.

"Well, I'd really like that idea, but I'm not twenty anymore. Let's take a shower and then we'll just stay in bed and I'll make tea. How does that sound?" John turned around in Sherlock's arms and looked him in the eyes before he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and got on his tiptoes to kiss him properly.

"Sounds good." Sherlock smiled against John's lips and pulled him with him into the bathroom before he closed the door with his foot again.

Sherlock was out of the shower sooner than John and he took the "present" from Mycroft from under the pillow to hide it in his pocket. As he turned around again, John emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. Sherlock smirked at him and quickly stood right in front of John, tilting his head to give him a kiss.

"You look hotter the less clothes you wear."

John chuckled and kissed back, playing with the soft curls at the back of Sherlock's neck. "So do you." He winked at him, got dressed while Sherlock watched him with a slight dispproval and then took him by the hand to make tea.

"John?"

"Hm?"

"I know what you were afraid of. Before I fell into a coma. Well, the coma helped me somehow realize it, or rather coma-induced dream-Mycroft did. Anyways, I realized you already had feelings for me back then which went deeper than those of being flatmates and just friends."

John didn't say anything, but motioned for Sherlock to go on.

"He threatened to burn the heart out of me, but that's impossible."

"Sherlock, I told you before that he was right about you having-"

"I know, John. But he couldn't burn it out of me."  
"What?"

Sherlock took John's face in his hands and looked him in the eyes, whispering "He can't burn the heart out of me, because you are my heart, John. So if he wanted to burn my heart, he'd have to kill you, but there's no way I'm going to let that happen."  
John quickly closed the distance between them, wound his arms around Sherlock's neck and got on his tiptoes to pull him in for a kiss. Sherlock bent down to give John easier access and prouded his lover's lips open with his tongue so he could get more of John's taste, of the taste of the real John. The real John who loved him with all his heart, who had always been by his side, even when he had annoyed him with shooting the wall or almost blowing up the flat with the experiments. The real John, **his** real John who never gave him up, not even as the brilliant mind he'd adored so much had failed him.

He tasted like tea, jam and something that was purely **John**. Nothing was better than this. Not even the imaginary John could get anywhere near this. This was where he was supposed to be: here, at 221b Baker Street with **his** John.

_When it's black,  
Take a little time to hold yourself,  
Take a little time to feel around,  
Before it's gone _

"When I'm gone, just remember that I'll always come back to you, because this is where I belong."

_You won't let go, but you still keep on falling down.  
Remember how you saved me now,  
From all of my wrongs._

"You saved me in so many ways, John and no matter how hard it is, you still hang on."

_Say those words, say those words like there's nothing left.  
Close your eyes and you might believe that there is some way out _

"Just say the words you want to say and close your eyes so I can make them come true for you."

_Open up, open up your heart to me now  
Let it all come pouring out,  
There's nothing I can't take_

"And I want you to know that you can tell me anything, I'll always listen to you."

_And if you feel the fading of the light  
And you're too weak to carry on the fight  
And all your friends that you care for have disappeared  
I'll be here, not gone, forever, holding on  
_"And if you ever feel down and you don't have the strength for anything anymore and Harry doesn't care, Sarah's with someone else and Lestrade may be on a case he can actually solve by himself, just remember that I'll always be here for you."

_And if there's love just feel it,  
And if there's life we'll see it  
This is no time to be alone, alone, yeah  
I won't let you go_

"We will just go through all of this together."

_And if your sky is falling,  
Just take my hand and hold it  
You don't have to be alone, alone, yeah  
I won't let you go_

"And if everything seems to fall apart for you, just come to me, we'll deal with it together."  
At this, Sherlock pulled out what he had asked Mycroft for and revealed a tiny black box.

"Because I won't let you go. And to show how serious I am about this, about us" He opened the box and John's heart skipped a beat or two as he saw two silver bands in it "I hereby ask you to marry me. Will you, John?" He looked at him, expectantly "Because I love you John, with all that I am and all that I have."

John pulled Sherlock down and kissed him as if his life depended on it _-again very likely-_ and as they pulled back for air, Sherlock said "I'll take that as a yes."

"Yes, I will gladly, happily, without ever thinking about anyone else, without ever wanting to go back marry you, Sherlock. Because I love you more than words could describe it. Always have and always will." Sherlock beamed at John as he pulled him in for another kiss.

Sherlock pulled back and slid the ring on John's finger before John did the same with Sherlock's ring. „I'll love calling you my husband." John smiled and said „Me too" before he dragged his fiancé towards their bedroom, kissing.

* * *

Music had saved Sherlock's life and it simply expressed best what they wanted to say, what they felt for each other.

Music had paved the way to their new life together and they happily obliged to what music had brought them.

* * *

**AN:** Okay, this is inofficially the last chapter, though I still have an epilogue written out to wrap some things up because I realized I didn't do that properly in this chapter.

And I wanted to get them married :) Yeah, I know I'm selfish like that.

Anywho, I wish you a great week, I hope to get some writing done for the future during my one week off work ;)

See you next weekend for the epilogue, can't wait to hear what you think of it!

Love, SoDamnSherlocked, xoxo


	16. Epilogue

**AN: **I'd been thinking about a short Epilogue to completely wrap things up, so here it is.

First of all, I'm unbelievably sorry for not uploading this sooner, as I'd promised. I've gotten myself a new laptop because my old one was just rubbish and couldn't be even called a laptop. I'm not gonna bore you with the details, so let's just leave it at that. I also had to work and stuff, so I completely forgot.

I do hope you are happy with this chapter and with the story overall.

Special thanks to CarmH for alerting, Mewknight for favouriting and all of you for reading this. I really appreciate the love I've gotten which I'd never expected.

I''ll soon post more stuff, I just need to get the ideas clearer somehow. I hope you stick with me & my writing, even though it might not be that great.

**Disclaimer: **For the last time in this story: No, I don't own anything, neither Sherlock or John (I'm giving them back in an equally good state as they were in when I borrowed them), nor the lyrics to the song I used. Everything belongs to their rightful owners.  
Anyways, on with the story.

Lyrics from Nick Howard – If I told You from his album Stay who you are 3

* * *

_**Epilogue:**_

They were standing in front of the dark brown wooden table, with Harry, Molly, Lestrade, Mycroft & Mrs. Hudson behind them, looking at each other, smiling.

John mouthed an "I love you" towards Sherlock as the priest started talking. Sherlock grabbed John's hand and squeezed is shortly before both turned back towards the priest.

Molly was standing next to a sniffing Mrs. Hudson who kept murmuring "My boys are getting married".

After a while it was silent but Sherlock didn't seem to have noticed so John squeezed his hand, trying to get his attention, but it didn't work. He rolled his eyes, smiled apologetically at the priest before leaning towards his detective, using a lower voice to whisper in his ear.  
"Sherlock, my love. You should really pay attention or else I'm going to make you go crazy tonight with you begging me for release and I will overthink my decision to let you come."

Sherlock immediately snapped out of his reverie, looking at John shocked before whispering "Really?"

John smiled encouragingly at him. "No, not that you're back right now and if you pay attention from now on." Sherlock nodded and leaned in for a quick peck on the lips.  
"Now boys! There will be enough time for that later!"

Both blushed slightly, John not believing his eyes because he still thought it impossible, but they turned towards the priest once more.

He went on with his speech, then told them to exchange their vows. They took each other's hands and Sherlock went first.

"John, **my John**, we have known each other for quite some time and when we first met, I immediately realized you weren't dull or stupid. You were something special and you still are. You never cease to amaze and surprise me. To me, you are a mystery that somehow even I am not able to solve, but I'd like to try and the fact that you are willing to marry me is not only the best thing that's ever happened to me, but it also shows me that you give me the permission to love you and meanwhile trying to unravel every mystery that is within you. People always told me to piss off-" At this, the priest inhaled and crossed himself, but Sherlock just went on "but you didn't. You found my skills amazing and so you kept telling me. When you moved in with me, I didn't think you would stick around, let alone fall in love with me." He smiled. "But you did and I still can't believe my luck. It does seem like a dream to me, but it's one I never want to wake up from. You changed me, John and only for the better and I'll be forever grateful for having you in my life." He slid both hands out of John's to put them on his cheeks, pulling him closer so their foreheads touched, looking into his lover's eyes. "I love you more than anything in this whole world, John. More than my experiments, more than my skull and more than my work, because it wouldn't be the same without you. You are part of my work and if I say I am married to my work, I need to be married to you, otherwise it wouldn't make sense because you are the biggest part of it." He closed his eyes, still smiling. "I love you and I promise to do so until the day I die. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, giving you what you need and protect you. I know I am a lot to deal with with my experiments cluttering the kitchen table, my violin playing in the middle of the night, body parts in the fridge next to your beloved jam and the holes in the wall, but you put up with all my moods and everything else that I just can't help loving you. And life has already seperated us for way too long, thus I'm just going to stop this as I'll most likely repeat myself. And I don't want more time to go to waste not being your husband."

John chuckled and Mrs. Hudson had broken to tears during Sherlock's speech. Then John took his turn.

"I never thought I'd find a flatmate when I came back from war, but then Mike introduced us and you... you were beyond special. People always found you rude and obnoxious and you are, but I wouldn't want you any other way. But at the same time you are brilliant and you never stop being amazing in my eyes. You really are crazy with your non-existent eating habits, your weird experiments, your violin playing in the middle of the night, running off at the weirdest times of day, your also non-existent sleeping habits, but to me, you are perfect in every way. I love you with all that you are and I never want you to change. I promise I'll stand by your side until the end of time, I'll cherish you, love you and show you for the rest of my life."

He looked down on the floor as he spoke the next words. "I almost lost you once. For me, you were gone because nobody had hope you would come back to me. I turned away from you, Sherlock and for that I am unbelievably sorry." Suddenly, Sherlock felt his hands get wet and as he tilted John's head upwards so he could lok into his lover's eyes, he saw tears pouring down. He rubbed them away with his thumbs and quickly kissed him before pulling back to smile at him, mouthing an 'It's okay'. "I stopped believing you would come back to me at one point, and as a doctor, I knew how slim the possibilities were of you waking up ever again. But I still went to visit you at least 5 days a week. Then somehow your amazing mind brought you back to me. I couldn't believe that I'd get a second chance and I don't want to waste it. I love you, Sherlock Holmes. Always have, always will."

Molly was now holding Mrs. Hudson who was crying into her handkerchief and she also had tears in her eyes as Sherlock and John turned back towards the priest.

Lestrade stepped forward with the small box Sherlock had gotten from Mycroft and Sherlock placed one ring on John's finger before John did the same with Sherlock's.

"I now pronounce you a married couple. You may kiss your spouse now."

John turned towards Sherlock and took his face in both hands, looking him in the eyes. "I love you so much, Sherlock Holmes." He got on his tiptoes while pulling Sherlock down a little until their lips met. Sherlock wound his arms around the shorter man's waist, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

As John felt he'd faint, he pulled back, gasping for air. "And I love you, John Hamish Watson."

There it was, that real smile that he had reserved only for him. He kissed him once more before they turned towards their friends. Mrs. Hudson had gotten herself together a little, she wasn't sobbing anymore and went forward to pull the now married couple into a hug. As she released them – John had to warn her that he wasn't getting any air like that – they both kissed her on the cheek, only to be interrupted by Molly who shyly opened up her arms to welcome first John and then Sherlock.

Lestrade shook both their hands, giving them an "I told you so"-look and then let Mycroft step forward.

"Congratulations, dear brother. I believe the matching rings fit and are to both your liking?"

"Yes, Mycroft. Thank you, they are lovely." Sherlock stayed silent, only nodding before Mycroft turned around again.

John smiled at his husband and they quickly signed the papers before he took Sherlock's hand, squeezed it and leaned in, whispering in his ear "Let's go home, my lovely husband".

Smiling, Sherlock bent down to kiss him shortly and holding hands they went outside to hail a cab.

"Sherlock! Put me down!" John tried to sound earnest, but it all died down in giggles.

"No, John. I want to do this properly at least." He stepped forward to reach the door. "Um, would you mind...? The keys are in my pocket."

John ruthlessly grabbed Sherlock's arse before lifting it to his coat pocket, fumbling out the keys to open the door. As the lock gave in, Sherlock kicked the door wide open and carried John bridal style through, proceeding to walk up the stairs like that.

"No, Sherlock! You are going to fall down the stairs and I can't have you in hospital again!"

But as soon as he had finished that sentence, he realized they were already in their living room. "Or not." John smiled up at Sherlock and pulled him down for a kiss while he felt his feet touch ground again.

He pulled back and held his husband at arms length. "I've got a surprise for you; with a little bit of help from Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock looked baffled. He hadn't expected this. "Seems like as if I have managed to surprise you. What a rare state. Let me enjoy this for a few seconds, please." John got on his tiptoes once more, pecking Sherlock on the slightly open lips before turning around to walk up the stairs to his bedroom.

As he came back, Sherlock hadn't even moved a muscle in his face, so it seemed. John took his hand and tugged him up the stairs. As they stood in front of the closed bedroom door, John tol Sherlock to close his eyes.

"Really, John?" He rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Sherlock. For me, please..." He looked John in the eyes and as another kiss was placed upon his lips, Sherlock gave in. "Fine."

John stood behind Sherlock, his hands covering Sherlock's closed eyes and he placed an encouraging kiss on his husband's neck. "Ready?" Sherlock just nodded and John turned the handle to open the door. He carefully, gently pushed him forward so they came to stand in the middle of the room as John withdrew his hands and Sherlock opened his eyes.

The room was bathed in candlelight, the bedside table covered in small candles, arranged in the shape of a heart, the table on the wall was carrying a few bigger candles and there was slow, soft music playing.

"John..." That was all Sherlock was able to say, looking around the room.

"Do you like it?" John blushed. It was beyond cute that even after marrying him, he was still able to do so. Instead of giving an audible aswer, Sherlock turned around and literally swooped John off his feet to kiss him before carrying him over to the bed, planning to snog him senseless.

As Sherlock pulled back to breathe again and to look at his husband, John stopped him from going further.

"Wait, there's something more." Sherlock looked puzzled. "Do you hear the music playing?" Sherlock nodded. "Listen to the lyrics. They say everything that I can't properly say to you. But what the lyrics say is everything I feel in my heart, everything I feel for you."

Sherlock stood up and John followed suit and both were quiet, listening to the music.

_If I told you how I feel_

_If I told you What I hold inside_

_If I told you Only half_

_Of the feelings that I try to hide_

_If I told you You're my friend but_

_If I told you That it won't suffice_

_If I told you All I ever needed_

_If I told you It was you_

_If I told you You were beautiful_

_What would you say to me_

_If I said that you were beautiful_

_What would you do_

_If I told you how I feel right now_

_Would you stay with me_

_Or would I be out of light_

_If I told you I'm afraid_

_If I told you I can hardly breath_

_If I told you all I need_

_If I told you all I need is you_

_If I told you in the sun_

_If I told you with this lovely melody_

_If I told you all I want_

_If I told you all I want is you_

_I don't speak it out loud_

_Would you even notice_

_I don't speak it out loud_

_Would it leave me hopeless_

_If I told you right now_

_Or would I be out of light, out of light_

"Always. And never" It was only a whisper, but John had heard. "I would stay with you, always. And You'd never be in the darkness because you are my shining light, John." He was still whispering and wrapped his arms around John, his nose buried in the crook of John's neck. As the music went on, they started swaing to it, slowly, tenderly and John felt safe in the arms of the detective. He was content dancing with him right then and there and Sherlock felt the same.

"Friends wouldn't have been enough for me either, John. At some point, you would've realized that all I needed was you. And I have to say that you are the most beautiful person that I have ever met. And I know you are afraid and I hate to admit that sometimes I am as well, but we'll make it through together. This song is perfect, John." He pulled back so they locked gazes. "I need you, I want you and I love you more than anything else in the world. And if you told me all of this, I'd love you even more. You really are the best thing that could've happened to me, ever..." Sherlock pulled John close again, holding him tight while they were still swaying to the music. "Thank you, John. For moving in with me, for putting up with me, for becoming my everything, for doing this, for loving me."

"Same here." "Thank you for waiting for me..." He pulled back and placed a soft kiss on John's lips, but John found it felt weird right then. He stepped back, taking a hold of Sherlock's hand to pull him to the bed, sitting next to him.

"Sherlock, are you okay?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine." But John could tell he was lying.

"No, love. You're not. What's wrong? Tell me." As Sherlock tried to turn away, John gently put his hand beneath his chin to turn his face towards him. "Don't hide from me, love. Whatever it is, we'll face it together, just talk to me, please."

Sherlock sighed as he turned his body fully towards John.

"What happened to me before I fell into a coma?"

John stayed silent and avoided Sherlock's gaze.

"Something bad then. Tell me, John. I don't want to deduce you." He carefully turned John's face towards his, placing a light kiss on his lips.

"It's not that simple to tell, Sherlock. Yes, it was bad, but I haven't talked about it since."

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's shoulders and pulled him down with him as they both laid back down on the bed, Sherlock's chest used as a pillow by John. Sherlock looked up at the ceiling, softly stroking John's hair as he waited for him to go on. John took a deep breath, then he started talking.

"You were abducted. I had no idea where you were and I got a message including the threat to kill you if I involved anyone in my search for you. You were poisoned and I had 24 hours to solve their little riddle for a hint to find you. I was thinking and when I got the answer. I blogged it. It did remind me of Moriarty, you know the case with the beeps, but it was a woman. Who knows, maybe he was behind it all.

Anyways, I got a call from Mycroft. He's run a search on the phone before I received the hint. By the time I'd found out it was about a warehouse, Mycroft had sent a car to take me to what he'd figured was the right one."

He paused. Sherlock was eager to find out what had happened, but he let John take his time.

He took a deep breath before continuing.

"I had a dream the night before, Sherlock. It felt so real that I was glad when I woke up to find you still gone." A tear made its way down his cheek and Sherlock wiped it away while John kept talking, his voice failing him every now and then. "It was worse than my nightmares about the war. I dreamt of going into the warehouse... and I found you... barely alive. You died in my arms.." His voice cracked and as another tear escaped his eye, he stopped shortly, snuggling closer to Sherlock, breathing his scent in.

Sherlock held him closer, his hands carding through John's hair in a soothing manner, but still stayed quiet, waiting for John to be ready to go on.

"I couldn't save you and to be honest, it was a slight relief that I found the flat empty when I woke up. That way, I could still hope finding you to get you back safe. So I went there and had called Lestrade as backup, but I went inside by myself. When I found you, you were unconscious, but you talked to me. They took you to a hospital and told me you were in a coma." John had left out the part where he shot the guy in the warehouse, but Sherlock didn't need to know.

"I don't even remember what happened to me." For the first time since the beginning of John's telling, Sherlock spoke.

"It was bad, Sherlock. Really bad. They had poisoned you to match the time window they'd given me to save you. You would've died after that time window had closed. You were beaten up brutally... They'd treated you really badly. The amnesia was due to severe head injuries."

There was a long silence before Sherlock broke it.

"What happened to them? Those who abducted me?"

_-Time to come clean now, Watson.-_

"There was one guard in front of the room you were in. I shot him to get to you and as for the woman you wrote me those messages, Lestrade managed to find her, with some help from Mycroft and they had enough on her in the end to put her behind bars." John stopped again, waiting for the words to sink in before he dropped the last bomb he had from this encounter.

"She hung herself in prison."

There was another long-stretched silence where both were lost in their own thoughts. Sherlock was absent-mindedly still stroking John's hair while he drew circles on the exposed skin beneath the pushed up shirt. At some point, Sherlock stopped stroking John's hair and placed a kiss on the top of his head.

„I'm glad you told me, I'm really happy."

John smiled up at his husband. „Me too."

"Thank you."

"For saving your life? First off, I wasn't the only one searching for you and secondly... How could I live without you?" John lifted his head off his husband's chest and kissed him on the lips.

As he pulled back, Sherlock smiled at him and answered "For being you" before pulling him down to kiss him once more.

* * *

**AN:** Last one for now.

Okay, that way beyond schmalzy, but I couldn't help myself, I'm a hopelessless romantic & I guess I wanted to give them what I don't have.

Anyways, thank you all once again for giving me and the story so much love!

Until later,

Much love, xoxo

SoDamnSherlocked


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